


Stolen Pearls

by bowie_queen



Category: Labyrinth (1986)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Deception, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Kidnapping, M/M, Masturbation, Oral Sex, Original Character(s), Romance, Secret Identity, Sex, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, The Underground, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Vaginal Sex, consensual voyeurism, hidden identity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-20
Updated: 2020-11-12
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:21:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 28
Words: 213,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23745982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bowie_queen/pseuds/bowie_queen
Summary: The fae couple that had been all set to adopt Toby are not happy. 13 Years after the Labyrinth run, Sarah has been kidnapped back Underground. As she starts to create a new life for herself, with new friends and even a possible love interest, she avoids having anything to do with Jareth. But things aren't always that simple. A story about hidden identities, revenge, love and hate.
Relationships: Jareth/Sarah Williams
Comments: 192
Kudos: 238





	1. Chapter 1

PROLOGUE

1986

The boughs creaking in the breeze and the whispers of the needles rubbing together were the only sounds uttered in the pine forest, in which he stood. Occasionally there was the faint sound of a scurrying creature here and there. His own footfalls were barely detected by his fae hearing. The ground blanketed in reddy brown pine needles, provided the sound nullifying carpet he was traipsing across.

The moonlight lit his path through the ancient forest but he didn't need its illumination to know where he was going. A short distance away there was a cave, and in the cave he would find many many pearls of different sizes, colours and varying lustre.

They weren't created by oysters like the Aboveground pearls. Rather they were tears of pearls, the residue of magic, some ancient and some newer forms of magic, captured from the eyes of the magical creatures that had once upon a time wept them. But for some long forgotten reason they were only found in this cave within his Kingdom. Jareth had long suspected that long ago, the fae or the elves had collected them and then stored them within the Labyrinth for protection. Centuries old he may be, well read also, but there were just some things lost to history that he may never come to learn.

Rock callers of all different sizes guarded the cave from would be robbers and anyone that didn't belong there. He didn't have to see them to know they were there, and they let him pass without trouble as they recognised him as their King. He silently thanked them with a wave of his hand.

The heady scent of pine needles and fresh air was a balm to his riotous soul. He was being asked to find a wife by the High King. So he was here to choose a pearl that would be fitting for his future bride. The Pearl Keeper, Briyash, was meeting him here to make his selection. How he would choose a pearl when he had no idea who he was to marry, was beyond him.

But High King orders were orders. So here he was, selecting his Bride Pearl. Choosing a pearl was not something just anyone had the privilege to do. If you were a commoner or a magical beast, then you have no access to the cave. It was reserved for the elite, the elves and fae; the nobles and royalty. There were two ways to choose a pearl, select one that speaks to you or have one selected by the Pearl Keeper that would indicate who one was to marry. However, in recent centuries prophetic pearls had fallen out of favour, people preferring to make matches for political reasons, or convenience, rather than relying on gems to tell them how they should marry. These days people only entered the Pearl Cave to simply pick a pearl as a gift for their intended bride.

Marriage was not something Jareth had planned on, preferring to have a casual stance on relationships. He couldn't imagine having to spend more time with one fae over another. His life was mostly solitary, and that was the way he liked it. Choosing a pearl that would take all the work out of it for him, seemed the ideal route for him to take.

Briyash appeared out of the thicket of trees ahead. Jareth halted his movements and gave the elderly elf a shallow bow.

"Lord Briyash," Jareth greeted. "Well met."

"Your Majesty," Briyash swooped into a low bow. His long grey beard dusting the ground beneath their feet. "I understand that your plans are to get married."

"Those are the plans, indeed," Jareth nodded. "Whether they are mine or not, remains to be seen."

"Have you an intended?" The diminutive elf asked.

"No," Jareth looked off into the middle distance. "I have been given a grace period in order to find one."

"So we're not looking for one to match particular tastes, but rather one that will match you to your future wife," Briyash nodded sagely. "We shall go into the cave and find the right pearl for you."

They entered the dim cave, Briyash lighting a candle, illuminating the shining pearls etched into the stone wall of the cave. There were thousands upon thousands of multicolour pearls surrounding them.

"Here we go," Briyash stopped in front of a low font. "Put your hand into the water and the Pearl that is destined for your perfect mate will be in there."

Jareth stepped up to the font.

Peering in, for all intents and purposes it looked empty, but he could sense the magic floating around inside the water. Not that it truly was water, but rather mist that acted like water because of the magic imbued through the vapour.

Jareth removed his glove and placed his hand into the font. As soon as he had done this, he felt something land in his palm. He instinctively clasped his hand around it and drew it out of the font. He opened his hand to look at the Pearl sitting in his hand.

It was dainty, but shined with a powerful, purple and green hue. He hadn't seen anything quite like it before. Most pearls were traditionally white when it came to matrimonial pearls. It certainly caught Briyash's attention.

"Your Majesty," he gasped. "That is a magnificent jewel. The Lady you bequeath this too, will have the strength and wit to match yours, but at the same time an uncommon kindness. She has a forgiving heart and such strong loyalty."

"And you know all this from a single pearl?" Jareth raised a brow. He had heard of Briyash's pearl reading before. It was said that he had rarely been wrong.

"I believe this particular pearl is from the virescent and amethyst unicorn, the rarest of all unicorns. They are almost diaphanous and have unmatched beauty, but represent kindness and strength."

"I have heard of them but have never seen one," asserted Jareth, still admiring the pearl in his hand.

At Briyash's simple but resolute nod, Jareth continued with: "And I have yet to meet anyone that matches that description. The fae tend to not match any part of your description."

"I am not a prophecy giver, Your Majesty," he started heading back out of the cave. "I leave that to the pearls. But I feel you will meet her soon."

"How will I know?" Jareth pondered. "How will I know who this pearl belongs to?"

"Some dream of their mate, some get struck by lightning," he laughed. "You will just know when the time comes to choose your wife. You will know."

Being a King there weren't many people who he hadn't yet met. He was skeptical, but still a part of him had some hope the old elf was right. He tucked the Pearl away inside a crystal for safe keeping. He felt quite honoured to have this easy indicator of who his wife was supposed to be. Pearls were closely linked to marriage, but they had a tenuous link, at best, to actual love. It was possible a prophetic pearl may predict who you get married to, but no way indicated who you loved. Rather moonstone was the gem for predicting love, but Jareth had little to no interest in going down that road, besides to find the moonstone caves, he would have to travel to quite a different kingdom.

"Thank you, Lord Briyash," with a bow and a reciprocal nod, both males exited the cave and went their separate ways.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A few months after he had retrieved the pearl, Jareth had found himself Aboveground taking flight as a barn owl. He often came up here to check on previous runners as he still felt mildly responsible for them after they had returned.

He took respite in a substantially tree furnished park after his duty had been fulfilled. It didn't take him long before he noticed a young girl, playacting in the park. And it took him even less time to notice she had the little Red Book.

That book contained magic that connected him to this world, so he was always instinctively drawn to it. It was passed from hand to hand to entice people into his world. It is where most of the Labyrinth's runners came from.

The book spoke of someone's triumph over the Labyrinth but in truth, it had never been defeated and he doubted it ever would. But it spoke of the possibility of it being achieved. People wouldn't make careless wishes if they knew the consequences were dire. The Underground relied on careless wishes to repopulate their diminishing numbers.

But this girl didn't match the usual runner he had in his labyrinth. Most were neglected or hard done by parents or in some cases, parents who were trying to protect their babies from others as a last resort. But this was a healthy looking regular teenage girl.

As he listened, he preened slightly hearing her recite the ending speech to her dog, knowing she was reading a scene that involved him, the Goblin King. No one had ever got as far as the ending of the book in reality, so he had never heard the speech said with heartfelt, significant meaning. The words had never been said and meant before.

Jareth titled his head slightly when she forgot the last line. But shortly after that she was gone, running through the rain to her home. He had work to do. He could sense another runner was going to be his very shortly.

Back in his castle and while he waited for the summons, he consulted the heavy tome in his office for who was due to receive a human child next. Fae couples that struggle to conceive naturally, were added to a waiting list, and they would become the new parents of the wished away baby or child.

The next on the list were Yarbro and Meffod Pinnsburr. They were nobles of the nearby Kingdom, Trew. Jareth had met them at many balls and festivals and had always hounded him about when it was their turn. At least now he could get them off his back.

However, he would be very surprised if his latest runner-to-be was a mother. She was very young, even by human standards. And she didn't look downtrodden with the pressure of raising a baby as a teenager. It shouldn't be long before he finds out anyway. He could feel it in his bones that the summons were due soon. So he must start writing his letter to Meffod and Yarbro to come and collect their new baby or child.

Once that was done and sent away in a crystal, he retreated back to his throne room to wait. It wasn't long before goblins started popping out of existence in front of his very eyes. Then he felt and heard the summons through his entire being. It was a baby this time. The most welcome possibility the fae coveted!

Before long two goblins popped back into the throne room holding a baby between them. Now was the time to go and make his appearance.

After he made his dramatic entrance, he discovered that the baby was the girl's step brother and not her child. Just a spoilt brat. Not unusual, but not his usual wish maker. He went through the motions, playing and dancing with the baby, while he whiled away the time. He received a letter from Meffod and Yarbro, accepting their new baby and they would arrive at the 13th hour to pick the baby up.

He chose this time to check in on the runner. Sarah, her name was. Interestingly, Sarah had exceeded expectations and had actually got quite deep into the Labyrinth. She had also befriended the dwarf, Hoggle. Jareth had all but promised Toby to his new parents. He had to slow her down immediately.

She was determined, if not whiney and spoilt. She got through the tunnels. Even with his distractions and the cleaners, and into the hedge maze. The girl had spirit, he could give her that. But he had to stop her. He started concocting a spell that would trick her and slow her right down, to the point of forgetfulness.

He was waiting for the moment when Hoggle would finally give her the dream induced peach. As he waited he updated his potential parents again. They weren't happy. They deemed too much progress had been made by the girl. While he concurred, he had started to admire her tenacity against his better judgement. There was something about this girl that had him mildly intrigued.

He had just sent another progress letter off via crystal, when he felt the magic tug him into Sarah's dream spell. He appeared in his own crystal ballroom surrounded by party goers. It didn't take long for him to spy Sarah working her way through the crowd. Looking for him, he surmised. He had to admit, she was a vision in white.

The peach dream would last a long while so he decided to have some fun with her, a little cat and mouse game, ducking in and out of the crowd, just staying out of reach. It was only when she got close enough that he began noticing a hidden element to this dream.

There were pearls draped everywhere. And if he looked closer at some of them, they appeared to have a green and purple sheen to them. This time when she got near, he let her, he went to her. He noticed pearls in her hair but also one inset into her necklace, again with a purple and green sheen. Briyash had said he would know. And he did know. This little scrap of a mortal was to be his wife.

Before he could process this realisation, the girl had cottoned on to something not being completely right. And like the determined child he was learning she was, she shattered the dream and would awake back in the Labyrinth, gradually remembering her purpose. She was the biggest challenge he had ever encountered in all his time as the Goblin King.

This changed everything. He couldn't let her win, but his first action as her husband couldn't be to take her baby brother away from her family and palm him off onto Meffod and Yarbro Pinnsburr. He wasn't particularly attached to the idea of a wife, but if he had to have one, then he'd at least want to be reasonably respectful towards her.

He couldn't let her win because then she could choose to leave. His arrogance only carried his hope she'd stay so far. And then there would be the issue of Meffod and Yarbro. They'd want to extract their pound of flesh for letting their baby slip through his fingers. He knew their kind. No one had ever won before. He wasn't prepared for a loss this time. Now there was more at stake.

Of course there was also the issue of her being so young and a mortal. He wouldn't marry her until she became of age of course. Plenty of time to teach her magic, as well as the culture, history and protocols of the Underground, before their marriage. Having a fiance should be enough to satisfy the High King of his desire to meet his obligations.

She was a pretty young thing, and she held the promise of a great beauty as she aged. Not that it mattered to him, but fae did have standards. He was only marrying her because he had to take a wife. She was young and not caught up in Underground gossip and politics, so she could be made malleable to his wants and desires. From that perspective she was perfect.

He was just holding the baby, Toby, and daydreaming about how easy it had been to find a wife, well within the time frame he had been given, when a Goblin interrupted his musings to inform him that the girl was at the gates of the Goblin City.

A battle, brief and chaotic had ensued. Against all odds she had won. She had won the moment she had entered the castle. But Jareth had to do one more power play. As he was hearing the words for the very first time, he tried convincing her to stay as his wife. But no. She said the words that sealed both their fates. She returned home and he returned to the castle sans his wife.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He was slumped in his throne, still outfitted in the white clothes he was wearing when he'd last seen his bride to be. Still hearing those never before intended words, over and over in his head.

"You have no power over me," over and over again, blocking all other thoughts with their constant repetition. The pain that he suffered from hearing them actually meant, actually intended, was raw and infinite. He had banished all the Goblins as his headache was only being exacerbated by their raucous behaviour. They were celebrating Sarah's win. He was too frustrated and disappointed to either admonish them or to join in.

In his palm he held the pearl. The Pearl designed for his wife. The one that told him who she was. Maybe he would consult Briyash in a few days about what had happened.

"Yes, I'd be sulking too if I'd let myself be defeated by a mere mortal child," the voice of Yarbro reverberated around the empty throne room. Jareth looked up to see the fae enter with his wife. Both were tall, blonde and had sharp pointy features common in their Kingdom of Trew. They also wore the blood red traditional robes of their Noble House of Pinnsburr. "Where is our baby, Goblin King?"

"If you know I've been defeated, then you know where the baby is," Jareth reasoned. He never had any reason to dislike Yarbro and his wife, aside from their nagging, but he was starting to find large reasons now.

"Then you will need to go and get him," Meffod commanded abruptly.

"Do you forget I am King?" Jareth sneered. "Do you forget your manners so easily?"

"A King of a lower kingdom," Yarbro scoffed. "It doesn't give you the right to lose the child that is ours."

"She won, fair and square," Jareth got to his feet. "The babe remains in protection by the Labyrinth for as long as he may live. You can not touch him. Nor can I."

"And the girl?" Meffod questioned, with hostility.

"Is none of your concern," Jareth snapped.

"You should have tricked her into staying," Yarbro argued. "You should have tried harder. You let her go. You let her win. That's a crime you know."

"She won," Jareth stated clearly. "What reason do I have for letting her win?"

"You've never liked us," Meffod chimed in. "You did this on purpose."

Jareth looked into the Blue eyes of the Trew female and laughed.

"Are you truly so paranoid to believe I suffered a loss to spite you?" Jareth asked sardonically.

"It's the only thing that makes sense," Meffod frowned. "We have been asking for a baby for years now, and you keep dismissing us every time we've approached you. You don't want us to have a child."

"There is a waiting list," Jareth growled. "I followed the book to the letter. This was your turn and unfortunately for you, it didn't work out."

"So we're still due to collect the next wished away child," Meffod rejoined with a smug grin.

"It doesn't work like that," Jareth sighed. "You go back to the end of the waiting list. You join the queue for a challenge, not the prize."

"You lie," Meffod sneered.

"Now now, Meffy," Yarbro tried to settle his wife.

"I am sure you're disappointed," Jareth grimaced with his pounding headache reminding him of its presence. "The best I can do is add you to the bottom of the list."

"I am sure there is something you want or need that can change your mind," Yarbro suggested calmly, with a sly wink. "Money or servants or perhaps my niece Forsythia as a bride."

"I will not be bribed," Jareth shook his head, summoning his cane in his annoyance. "Especially not with a wife."

"How can a mortal child beat your Labyrinth?" Yarbro mocked, changing tack with his revived anger, one eye on the cane currently being hit against the Royal fae's boot.

"She persevered," Jareth answered almost fondly. "She had love for her brother and loyalty to her friends. Humans often share stories of love triumphing over adversity. She proved it right, that's all."

"She needs to be punished," said Yarbro through his teeth.

"You sound almost proud of her," Meffod accused at the same time.

"My response to both is no," Jareth dismissed both their statements with a wave of his hand and a cold stare with his hard blue eyes. "The Goblins are celebrating the girl as the Labyrinth's Champion. By rights that gives her a high standing within my realm. While she may not have the same level of protection as the babe due to innocence, she still can not be touched."

That wasn't strictly the truth. Toby, whilst safe and protected absolutely, couldn't be touched, but there were many loopholes with his sister. Yet, he didn't want to tell these two miscreants any of that for fear of what they may do to his wife. The loopholes may be there for him to exploit, but he didn't want anyone else being privy to them.

"She has my protection," Jareth reaffirmed.

"There are time limits to those kinds of protection spells," Yarbro shrugged. "If you don't deal with her as necessary, we will."

"You dare threaten my ward," Jareth's ire broke free of its chains. He knew he wouldn't be able to claim Sarah for at least 13 years, that was a major loophole that would be his last resort. "In my kingdom, when you are nothing and nobody worthy of questioning me?"

"Yet you are not our king," Meffod said calmly. "But we will take this to our King."

With his last shred of patience, Jareth warned them one last time and they still defied him.

"You take our child, deny us our revenge, let that mortal win, deny us the next child, it won't be the last time you hear from us," Meffod challenged. With a flick of his wrist Jareth was alone again. Meffod and Yarbro would be somewhere outside his realm, he didn't care where as long as they were gone.

Jareth settled back into his throne. He had to start thinking about how to get his wife back. He pulled out the pearl again and looked at it once more. He wondered why such a person was destined to be his wife. Something about her did entice him, Pearl prophecy aside. But he might have to wait 13 years before he could get her back to find out.


	2. Chapter 1

CHAPTER ONE

Halloween 1999 (13 years later)

The 1980s music spilled out onto the road as Sarah arrived at the Halloween Party. Dressed as a back cat, Sarah made her way up the stairwell of a Victorian house. Her skintight black catsuit came complete with a tail and a set of ears perched over her straight almost black hair, that tumbled loosely down her back. With her makeup she had given herself cat eyes and whiskers on her cheeks. Her black high heel shoes clicked with every step along the grimey, chewing gum covered pavement in the leafy New York suburb. Entering through the open door she started sweeping through the throng for her friend Hilary.

The narrow hallway, already crowded with party goers spilling out from the incommodious living rooms, reminded Sarah of a horizontal Helping Hands tunnel. She didn't like her chances of finding Hilary in this pit of people's bodies practically slithering over one another. Hilary was the only reason she was here though. She was a good friend who had been with her through the tough times so doing this one teeny tiny favour for her was an easy decision.

Though at 28 years old, House parties seemed a bit young for her. And most of them were university students, which proved her point. And in addition, most of them were trying their hardest to turn it into an orgy, evidenced by the state of undress and the close proximity many people were exhibiting to one another.

Sarah twisted her way through the mass of limbs and torsos, until she caught a glimpse of Hilary, dressed as a sexy devil. Two bodies wrapped around each other, one belonging to Hilary and one that was unfamiliar to Sarah, swayed in sync to the song playing from the stereo. When she got close enough to her friend she tapped her on the shoulder and shouted her name.

Hilary, a pint sized red haired vixen, with the most piercing blue eyes Sarah had ever seen, disengaged from her make-out partner.

"SARAH," Hilary shouted back. "You made it. This is Eddy."

Eddy, the slender, dark-haired boy she had been enclosing with her limbs and mouth, was also dressed as a sexy devil. Eddy and Sarah gingerly but politely exchanged waves and smiles.

It didn't take long until they wrapped around each other again, like vines around a tree trunk, and Sarah was at a loss as to what to do with herself.

"I'm just going to find a drink," Sarah yelled over the 80s music blaring over the tinny speakers. Why did Hilary insist she comes here if she was just going to hook up with someone and then ignore her? Not that she begrudged Hilary her make out session, but she'd rather have been at home reading a book or catching up on some work. She came as a favour, she reminded herself. Hilary wanted someone to accompany her and picked Sarah to do the job. Halloween was Hilary's favourite time of the year, and she didn't want to miss out. Her friend would do the same for her, so Sarah had to just make the most of it.

There was a pile of paperwork for her divorce she still had to sign sitting on her desk that she had been planning on doing. Hilary thought this party would be a good distraction for her. But seeing all the couples just threw her own loneliness into shaper contrast. Not that she could regret walking out on her husband for a single moment.

Having found the significantly quieter kitchen, she rummaged around the pile of discarded cups for a clean one. She was just about to pour herself a cup of vodka when she saw a lanky blonde man staring at her with cool blue eyes from across the room. Sarah's heart stopped. Her cheeks lost all their blood and her mouth flopped open.

The blonde man raised an inquiring eyebrow and Sarah snapped back to reality. What was he doing here? He was the last person she expected to see again. Especially at a student house party. She looked away continuing to pour her drink. Then with a swish of her black cat's tail she turned and went the opposite direction.

But he was too quick. He stood in front of her before she could blink. Her sharp intake of breath didn't go unnoticed either. The blonde smirked as she made eye contact with those startling blue eyes.

"Sarah," was all he said in a cool, throaty voice.

"You," Sarah managed to choke out while she focused on getting her body under control. It would do her no good to let him think he had any power over her. "What are you doing here?"

"It's a party," he shrugged, running his fingers through his blonde locks. "I was invited. Why are you here?"

"I was also invited," Sarah found her courage rise. "But you don't live around here so it seems less natural for you to be here."

"I was in town," his blue eyes assessed her coolly, no hint of warmth. "I don't need your permission you know."

"I was hoping I'd never see you again," Sarah snapped. How this man infuriated her.

"Now, now, now," he smirked again. How she wished she could wipe it off his pretty face. "No need to be rude."

"Well, goodbye," Sarah went to turn away when the blonde reached out and grabbed her shoulder.

"Not so fast Sarah," he tutted at her. "Don't you think after all this time we need to talk?"

"There's nothing to talk about," Sarah answered before thinking. "I think I made it pretty clear when we last met that you're no longer welcome in my life."

"Tell me, are you here alone?"

"None of your business," Sarah snarled.

"You may be dressed as a feline but you don't need to be so catty," he grinned at his own joke.

"Goodbye," she repeated, wriggling free of his grasp.

"Sarah, you don't need to be such a teenager about this," he yelled after her.

Sarah saw red. She wheeled back around and glared at him.

"Excuse me?"

"You've always been a spoilt bitch," he continued. "Thought time would have changed that but no you're still the same, stuck up, spoilt selfish brat."

Sarah was about to let loose a tirade when she noticed Hilary at her elbow.

"Hello Mark," Hilary greeted the blonde man. "You can leave Sarah alone now."

"I am talking to my wife, you interfering bint," Mark growled at her red haired friend.

"Ex wife," Hilary corrected, not at all perturbed by Mark's rudeness. "Or have you forgotten?"

"It's not official yet," Mark snapped, an ugly look creeping across his fine features.

"It will be very soon," Sarah stated.

"Did you forget that you ran off with that pixie-like blonde child?" Hilary questioned sardonically.

"She isn't a child," Mark snapped.

"She may as well be," Hilary fired back. "She is only just legal. Still your marriage is over and Sarah has asked not to see you, so perhaps do something right for once and respect her decision."

"Like she can do any better," Mark scoffed. "I bet she isn't here with another bloke. No one would want that used up, lousy lay of a selfish brat anyway. "

Sarah laughed, threw her vodka in Mark's face and for the umpteenth time, she twirled away from him and stalked off into the crowd, with Hilary following her.

"I'm going to the bathroom," Sarah said after ten minutes of dancing vigorously with Hilary to try and forget her anger towards her ex husband. She moved through the press of people until she managed to get towards the front of the bathroom queue.

The bathroom was a room with a vanity and shower only and the access to the toilet was through a separate door within the bathroom. When she finished in the toilet annex, two blonde people, one male and one female, took her by surprise as they stood waiting in the shower room part of the facilities. Sarah gave a slight start at the sight of the couple standing in front of the exit.

"Um," Sarah mumbled as she headed past them, slightly creeped out by their presence. "Sorry, I didn't realise people were waiting."

"That's fine," they both said together. Sarah eyed them suspiciously before washing her hands at the vanity. When she rotated back around they were still standing where they were initially, both still facing her.

"Sarah Williams?" asked the blonde male.

"Why..." was all Sarah got out before they rushed at her and in a blink of an eye she had disappeared from the bathroom.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jareth had spent the past excruciating thirteen years trying to reach his wife. For the first half he alternated between brooding for his loss and researching how to get her back. While he could occasionally catch glimpses of her in his crystals or as an owl, it was fleeting and insubstantial. None of his dusty tomes in his library revealed any answers to him, and any magic he tried fizzled away into nothingness. The second half consisted of revisiting his first attempts, seeking knowledge from elders like Briyash and trying to enjoy the remaining years he had left before he found his betrothed. So even with his best efforts, it had come to his last resort of waiting the entire thirteen years. He may be immortal, but he was deathly impatient.

He had seen enough to know that she had turned into the promised beauty, plus some. He also knew that she had taken an Aboveground husband. No matter. It wasn't like that marriage would be valid once she returned Underground.

The day had finally arrived. The day he could return to her and bring her home. And it was Samhain, which meant the veil between worlds was at its thinnest. It would use less magic and be easier on her too. The magic seeping through the veil would help in assisting Jareth with convincing his wife to return to him. He considered that she probably would put up a bit of a fight. She was feisty and strong-headed. The thought of going toe to toe with her brought a grin to his chiselled face. He would enjoy her strength of character. Once she agreed to come Underground with him.

The plan was simple. If she didn't immediately agree, he would try to convince her. If that fell to the wayside, then he could at least imbue her with protection spells until the time she was ready to come down. He'd woo her if needs be. Trickery wasn't beneath him, but Sarah, he knew, had a strong sense of fairness. He would play by her rules for a while, but she would have to have a time limit, as he had a time limit placed on him. He didn't doubt that his charm and the charms of being Queen, would win her over. He doubted he would need to go as far as wooing her. Who wouldn't want to be Queen, learn magic and be married to him? Who wouldn't want to live forever? He grinned again. He could almost taste his victory.

He created a crystal and with it he commanded it to send him to Sarah. He arrived shortly in a room full of people dressed as all manner of creatures, enveloped by music and flashing lights. He fit right in even dressed as the Goblin King in his dark blue and black cape, over a dark grey and black outfit complete with black boots and his fae markings. No-one would bat an eye at his wild hair and glitter imbued clothing at a Halloween party. No need to even bother with a glamour. Immediately he set about seeking Sarah out.

He saw her. She danced closely with another girl, dressed in head to toe black. He was quite mesmerised by her dancing and her beauty. Jareth continued to be captivated as Sarah danced in the skin tight black outfit. The music was playing something about coming on Eileen. Jareth wondered briefly who Eileen was and why the singer was preoccupied with coming on her. As he watched her his attention became solely fixated on Sarah, and he couldn't care less about how much cum was now all over Eileen by the end of the song. Sarah and her friend had started swaying to a song about a jitterbug, waking up and yo-yos, whatever they were. Mortal songs were very strange to Jareth's ears, but seeing her face all lit up and her feminine body move to the music was enough to overlook the nonsense words. She looked rapturous and quite enticing in her euphoria. His dear wife had certainly grown up. The adult in her was certainly speaking to the adult in him, he thought with a lascivious grin.

He was about to approach her when she stopped dancing to head away from her friend. He followed at a distance as she wandered into a long line of people. He gathered she was waiting to use the bathroom and so hung back to wait for her, not taking his eyes off the point he last saw her.

Ten minutes had passed and she hadn't reappeared so he headed towards the facilities. There was no way out unless she snuck out the window. And he hadn't seen her go past. He was about to find a private space to look into another crystal when he got bumped by a younger gentleman who started yelling in a manner that suggested he was heavily intoxicated.

"Sarah, you slut," he bellowed in a drunken manner. "Where the fuck are you hiding? Come out and talk to your husband."

People stared at him and then hurriedly shuffled away from the unhinged man.

"Excuse me," Jareth grabbed the other man's shoulder, having recognised him from his crystal viewing in previous years. "Are you Sarah Williams' husband?"

"Yes I am, who wants to know?" the other blonde man sized him up with unfocused eyes as he swayed side to side. "The name's Mark and I'm the husband of that useless bag of bones."

Jareth felt his anger at this man simmering to the point of boiling.

"My name is Jack," Jareth lied. "I am a friend of Sarah's and was looking for her too."

"She is probably off shagging a student in one of the bedrooms," Mark's glazed eyes narrowed dangerously. "If you're next in line, don't bother she is a fucking awful shag."

"You fucking liar, Mark," came a voice from Jareth's elbow. He noticed the short, pretty red haired girl Sarah had been dancing with standing next to him.

"She was the best shag you ever had and you're kicking yourself for running off with Melinda," Sarah's friend admonished the husband. "Now where is she?"

"If I knew I wouldn't tell you," Mark growled. "You slut enabler, Hilary."

"Sarah can make her own choices about her own body," Hilary stared Mark down. "And for what it's worth, she was always faithful to you, which is more than you deserved."

"BULLSHIT," he yelled, spittle flying out of his mouth. "She is a lying little slut who..."

"She wasn't the one who slept with her best friend at her parent's funeral," Hilary yelled.

Jareth's heart instinctively skipped a beat and his breath faltered. Sarah's family were dead? And she had been married to this monster? Oh why couldn't he have come sooner? What of Toby? Was he still alive? Had Sarah not been content in the past thirteen years? What made her marry such a despicable being? Did he really bed her bosom friend at the funeral of her progenitors? As soon as these thoughts came rushing through, they were stopped by recalling that while she was to marry him, it was a marriage of convenience and her feelings and history were of little consequence to him. As surely, his feelings would matter little to her. He would make sure she was comfortable, but her happiness would be her own responsibility. That was the way fae marriages worked.

"Then who is this?" Mark pointed at him. "The next dope who falls for her tricks?"

"I would not dishonour her so," Jareth growled through gritted teeth. "I would know where she is though."

"If I knew I wouldn't tell you," he laughed. "You fucking fairy."

"Mark," Hilary cut in. "Why don't you bugger off?"

Before Mark could respond, Hilary had grabbed Jareth's arm and dragged him through the crowd.

"My name's Hilary," she said over her shoulder. "You're sober. Help me find her."

"Jack," Jareth inclined his blonde head in greeting. "Pleasure to meet you."

"Likewise," she said. "I don't know who you are or how you know Sarah but we need to find her and we need to get her out of here. Her husband, or ex husband should I say, is desperate when he is drunk."

"I'm an acquaintance," Jareth explained as they looked through the throng for Sarah. "I've known her for 13 years but she hasn't seen me in quite a long while. I'm back in town, and saw her dancing with you. I just wanted to address her when I lost sight of her."

"Well you can do that when we find her," The red head weaved through the crowds effortlessly.

"Why is her ex husband dangerous?" Jareth asked as they passed into a new room.

"He can get mouthy and has been known to be a bit pushy when drunk," Hilary frowned. "He is a nasty piece of work, drunk or sober. Sarah is well shot of him."

"It sounds like it," Jareth scowled. "Look I am just going to search the bathroom for a minute."

Jareth couldn't waste anymore time looking for her the mortal way. The bathroom may contain clues as to her whereabouts but it also would be a place he could consult his crystals without drawing suspicion from the mortals. Pushing into the bathroom, when it was his turn, he quickly summoned a crystal and asked it to show him where his wife was.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sarah landed with a hefty thud. She groaned and rolled over onto her back. She prised open her gritty eyes and gazed around. She was in the Underground. The orange sky that greeted her scrutiny told her so. Turning her raven head, she could identify the walls of the Labyrinth towering over her and feel the dusty, grainy ground under her hands. She sat up immediately investigating around her for her kidnappers but she was perfectly alone. Not a single soul in any direction she looked. Only the wind whipping her hair for company. Not even Hoggle, she realised with disappointment. Not even a fairy, she realised with satisfaction.

And with relief, utterly devoid of those two blonde people at the party she assumed were fae, based on their ability to transport her via magic. What was their game, abducting her and abandoning her outside the Labyrinth? The sudden thought of being captured by Jareth as she sat in a catsuit, covered in orange dust, outside his very Kingdom, had her springing to her feet. She had to get out of here and expeditiously.

She picked a direction and just ran.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Finally secluded, Jareth stared into the depths of the crystal. There had been no clues of her whereabouts in the mortal bathroom, but he detected magic, albeit weak magic. Magic that only had a chance of being successful Aboveground during the thinning of the veils. He was not familiar with the brand of power used so he turned to his crystals for the answers he sought. He detected her image flickering briefly and then it disappeared into a murky grey cloud. She was outside his Labyrinth. How in the seven Hells did she get there? For a second he contemplated going and telling Hilary he had found her, but didn't want to waste anymore time. He contemplated that the Labyrinth had recalled her after 13 years, but doubted that theory almost immediately. Something else was afoot here.

Without another thought he flickered out of existence.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sarah had been running for time immeasurable. Or at least that's what it felt like. She eventually slowed to catch her breath with her hands on her knees as she pulled delicious air into her starved lungs. She heard footsteps and jerked her head up. In front of her was a slender blonde man with tan breeches and a lighter coloured cream stockings and dusty grey heeled shoes. His shirt was flowy and white under a wool knit vest.

He ceased moving right in front of her.

"Greetings," welcomed the familiar man with a slight incline of his blonde head and a leisurely wave of his gloved hand. Sarah gasped and stepped back, away from the oncoming personage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The usual disclaimers: I don't own anything.


	3. Chapter 2

CHAPTER TWO

She had at first presumed the blonde man approaching her was Jareth and then her very next suspicion was that it was one of her kidnappers.

But this man was neither. Her conceptualisations were dashed to the winds as she gazed upon the man in front of her. He appeared older than both the blonde men she assumed he was. His straight blonde hair was tied up in a long ponytail. Compared to the Goblin King he looked almost human. Was everyone in this World a tall slender blonde? Were they all cut from the same cloth and mixed into the same mould? Her dark raven hair felt too distinct and otherworldly at this juncture.

"You're human," blurted Sarah, blushing at her own rudeness.

"I am, as are you," the man laughed. "Though you're dressed rather like a cat."

"I was at a party, a celebration," Sarah blushed, smudging the whiskers on her cheek with the back of her hands.

"It is Samhain, to be certain," the man nodded. "What are you doing out here in the wilderness?"

"I was kidnapped from Aboveground and then left here," Sarah told the man honestly, looking into his brown eyes, that widened as his eyebrows disappeared into his stray hair, falling over his forehead. "I didn't expect to find a human here."

"I didn't expect to find an Aboveground human on my journey home either," chuckled the man warmly. "These parts are the outlying lands and they're pretty secluded and desolate. Not many people, if any, travel these roads. And Aboveground humans have not been seen for many a year. Tell me who kidnapped you?"

"I don't know," Sarah shrugged, still violently trying to wipe her face clean of her cat features. "A blonde couple. One male and one female. That's all I know. I saw them for mere seconds before they brought me here and I didn't see them again."

"Not many fae live around here, and they are most likely fae if they brought you here from Above," his brow twitched as he rubbed his chin with his hands. "My cart is over the hill, if you need a lift somewhere."

"I need to get as far away as I can from here and quickly," Sarah wasn't sure she trusted the man but it had to be better than being found by her kidnappers or the Goblin King. "In case they come back."

"Well I live in a pretty remote village to the east of here," he claimed. "I can tell you all about the humans of the Underground while we travel. Then you can have dinner with my family and a place to stay until we can get you home."

"That's too kind," Sarah was blown away by his kindness. "You don't even know me. I am a stranger."

"Everyone is a stranger until they're not," he smiled broadly. At his words, Sarah couldn't help but hear a voice in her head singing, 'though we're strangers until now…' She grimaced and threw herself back into the present moment, ignoring any paths leading through the stars.

"Knew as soon as I saw you that you weren't from around here," he eyed her up and down, as he started leading her towards his cart. "We help each other here Underground. The King will want to help you."

Sarah took a minute to realise she was still in her catsuit and blushed furiously at the thought of the Goblin King seeing her like this. She had to resist the urge to openly scoff at his mention of the King. There was no way he would want to help her. Completely the opposite, she was unequivocally positive. Not wanting to spend her the rest of her life in the Bog or an oubliette, was high on her priority list right now. Also not letting anyone know that she was responsible for the destruction of the Goblin City rated highly too, especially not knowing people's levels of loyalty to their king. She did not want to be turned in, and she simply did not want to draw attention to herself.

"I'm not sure that he wasn't the one to get me into this situation to begin with," mumbled Sarah, making the man roar with laughter.

"No young lady, he wouldn't kidnap innocents without warning and leave them to rot outside his great maze," the cart was in view now. Sarah eyed it with apprehension, still uncertain whether to trust this man. He could easily be a spy for the Goblin King or her kidnappers. She wouldn't just go home with strange men in the Above, what was possessing her to even consider it now?

Hoggle's words voiced in her head: "Look at it this way, what other choice have you got?"

What choice did she have? She refused to enter the Labyrinth, and she couldn't stay out here to be discovered, especially with no food or water or shelter. She could wait until Hoggle made an appearance but she dreaded being discovered by others first.

"It doesn't mean that the couple who brought me here aren't his henchmen," Sarah pointed out as they descended the other side of the dusty hill.

"Did they have goblins?" He asked.

"No, I only saw the two of them," Sarah replied. "And I think you must be right that they were fae. They did look otherworldly, but it was a party where everyone was dressed up and wearing makeup so it was hard to tell."

"There are only a handful of fae our King associates with," the man informed her. "And they'd not be the kidnapping kind."

"Yet your own king is the kidnapping kind," Sarah gritted her teeth with indignation.

"He never takes what isn't freely given," the man helped her onto the cart and he followed suit. "Have you met our King before?"

"Once, a long time ago," Sarah's feelings of guilt flared up at the memory of wishing Toby away. She hoped he was OK where he was now. She missed him like he was her own child. Now wasn't the time to think about him though. "In passing, nothing of significance."

"Perhaps you can tell me your story after I've told you mine," he suggested. Sarah was not planning on telling him anymore than what he already knew. Explaining that she wished away her brother would lead to more questions that she didn't want to answer. Already she had said too much.

The road was rough and bumpy, if you could even call it a road. It was more a dirt track through the wild terrain. Sarah sat in silence for a while, her hands gripping the side of the cart for security.

"The name is Liam Sprigget from the village of Ghent," Liam told her after the silence had reigned for minutes. "I am a sixth generation human. One of my great great great grandparents was a wished away child who came to live here instead of being adopted by a fae. That was the old way of doing it you see. The wished away children were sent to villages all around the kingdom, until one day the fae decided to keep the children for themselves and set about converting them to fae. We live longer than Aboveground humans but not as long as the fae raised babes. The first wished-aways created new families and we continue to increase our population, but a lot of us feel that the fae should stop stealing the babes for themselves and let them live their natural lives with us."

"Doesn't that power rest with your king?" Sarah asked.

"Indeed, you'd think so," Liam shook his head. "He is answerable to the High King and the High Court. They dictate that he brings our Stolen Pearls to the fae to adopt. He has to follow the rules. It is common knowledge he doesn't like what he has to do. Not a huge supporter of the fae is our king."

"Isn't he fae himself?" Sarah pressed.

"Indeed," Liam laughed. "Doesn't mean he has to like them."

Sarah thought about her own view on human beings, her own kind, and she acknowledged his point. She was slightly nonplussed that The Goblin King of all people would be so heedful and mistrustful of his own kind, however.

"What are Stolen Pearls?" Sarah addressed another point.

"Ah," Liam frowned. "Fae never used to have issues with conceiving children. Until a few centuries ago, they were most likely cursed. You see pearls are extremely rare in the Underground."

"A lack of oysters?" Sarah inquired.

"Oysters?" asked Liam. "Nah, pearls are created by magical creatures like a phoenix that cry tears of pearls. The rumours are that for years the fae hunted these creatures for their pearls. You see pearls themselves have magical properties to do with prophecies or healing but especially matrimony. They were largely in demand. However the story goes that the Spirits ended up cursing the fae for hurting their children, but preventing them from having many of their own. So we humans call the wee wished away babies stolen pearls, because the fae just do the same thing but with a different element. It's not certain if this is how it began, but fae did suffer from more infertility than they used to. The pearls are all kept safe somewhere in The Labyrinth, but no one knows for sure how they all got there. There are myths and legends aplenty."

"That's so sad," Sarah sighed. "Why do you dislike the fae having human babies so deeply?"

"Fae are cold, hard creatures," Liam explained. "They are a corrupt bunch. After all, if the rumours are to be believed, they hunted magical creatures so they could take their tears. If they're lucky enough to have their own offspring, they treat the human borns wickedly in comparison. To me that doesn't sound like a moral bunch of beings you want raising wee human babes."

"Which may explain why the Goblin King is responsible for my kidnapping," Sarah implied yet again, wishing she had learnt to bite her tongue.

Liam just chuckled. "You sound like my wife. She believes that we should govern ourselves and we don't need a King to tell us what to do."

"Maybe your wife is right," Sarah smiled to show she meant no harm. She was vaguely becoming aware of how many times she had already mentioned the Goblin King in an antagonistic manner.

"You wait until you meet her," Liam laughed. "She is all piss and whinge, and truth be told probably besotted with the King."

Objectively, if you ignored all the child stealing and death threats, then in a roundabout way Sarah could see that Jareth was quite good looking. But found it hard to imagine anyone would be besotted with him. However if what Liam had said was all true, it was painting a different picture than the one that had been in her head for 13 years. And if she was going to be honest with herself, actually meeting the Goblin King had changed her perspective on what his book depiction had been. From the age of 10 when she first acquired the little red book, she had had a crush on the Goblin King. Reality definitely changed that adoration. They do say to never meet your heroes.

The miles passed on with Liam chatting about his home and asking about hers. Sarah learnt that Liam's grandfather had worked at the Goblin Castle and had taught him all about pearls and their significance. The dreaded question of her family had come up and explaining that her parents were both dead, and her brother had been adopted out to a relative of his mum's on the other side of the continent, so she hadn't seen him in years, had left her feeling raw and subdued.

"You only had the one brother?" Liam asked gently.

Sarah sighed fighting back the tears. "Yes and I wasn't allowed to see him. His aunt didn't like me or my father so that was that. He is only 14, so still too young to really strike out on his own."

The irony of this all was the villain wasn't the Tina Turner-hair sporting, tight-trouser wearing, glitter obsessed child stealer, but Toby's own aunt that kept him and turned him into "one of them forever". Sarah often wondered if it would have been kinder to let him turn into a fae than to be kept prisoner by his own family.

"Helena and I have 8 children," Liam said. "We both come from big families. It must be hard only having one brother and losing him."

Especially when I had fought so hard to get him back, Sarah thought peevishly.

"And you would have lost a brother or sister once before, as you said you have met the Goblin King once?" Liam pressed.

She did not want to tell him she had actually beaten the Labyrinth as she trusted his loyalties were stronger to the king than to her, and she was still convinced he would rat her out, if he knew who she was. It occurred to her briefly that she may be inflating her own importance. Surely others had beaten the Labyrinth before and after her.

"No indeed," Sarah didn't want to lie. "Our meeting was inconsequential; fleeting."

Liam nodded but didn't say anything, urging the horse on towards a valley dotted with houses and buildings. That must be where they were heading. They lapsed into silence again as they travelled on.

~~~~~~~~~~~~^~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The owl had flown for hours and there was no sign of Sarah. His wings ached and he needed to rest urgently but he pushed his slight body even harder. He would not admit defeat. He had lost the battle but he wouldn't lose the war, when it came to making Sarah his wife.

Justifying his reasons for even chasing her occupied a lot of his flight time. She interested him like no fae had ever done before. Of course the High Court were unhappy with his lack of a wife and had been pushing Forsythia onto him. He'd had had a quiet word with the High King saying he had a Prophetic Pearl, and this placated the High King for the interim. It showed Jareth had at least an intention to marry.

But was a pearl, High Court pressure and a growing interest enough to warrant a marriage? For nigh on 13 years he had thought of little else save reclaiming Sarah. He pondered whether something more was driving him to find her. He certainly had never chased any of his other paramours to this extent.

But then he'd never been challenged and defeated to the extent he had been when she ran the Labyrinth. He found, against his better judgement, that he wanted to get to know her on a deeper level than just a figurehead or placeholder that most wives filled. He kept seeing her in his mind's eye as she was now, an adult, dressed as the black cat swaying in time to the music and he found himself captivated by her.

And eventually he did need an heir. If Jareth looked at it objectively that was his main reason for not defying the High Court in their order, because he knew they were right. He wasn't eligible to adopt a human child unless he had a wife. But Sarah being human meant she wouldn't suffer the fae's legendary infertility. He wondered now if this had been his subconscious realisation the whole time. Wanting Sarah for her baby making ability seemed more natural to him than wanting her for his feelings. His pride could remain intact if his feelings could stay out of the picture. The image of her dressed in skintight clothing at least consoled him that he'd enjoy the baby-making process with her.

He had by this time completed the loop around his Labyrinth's border with not a single hint as to her whereabouts. He realised with some measure of concern that he was resting in the tree next to where Sarah had stood as she had taken her first survey of his Kingdom. He wondered what she had truly perceived. Her statement about it not looking too hard was more to boost her own self confidence and to goad him, than a reflection of her true feelings, he was assured.

He let out a shriek of annoyance. Why should he care what her impression of his Labyrinth was? He doesn't. He couldn't. She was to be his wife in name alone. Produce a child and then they would live separate lives in separate wings of the castle, only making appearances together for formality. That's how his parents did it, that's how most fae royalty did it. Why should he do it any differently? There was no place for love in a marriage. Love? Love? Who said anything about love? He rebuked himself for such inconceivable thoughts.

It was all worthless introspection if Sarah had met her demise anyway. His next port of call was to go and see the Pinnsburrs and find out what they knew.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The manor was devoid of any sign of the human.

"She's not here," Meffod growled as she clenched and unclenched her fists.

"I don't understand why it matters, Meffy," observed Yarbro. "How would a chit of a mortal girl be in any way useful for leverage to the Goblin king?"

"Do I really have to explain this to you again?" his wife threw a vase across the room in her exasperation. "Remember Gilb the Goblin?"

Yarbro affirmed that he did, with a brisk nod of his blonde head, not even reacting to the shattering vase.

"He told us that snippet of information concerning the girl and the Goblin King when he eavesdropped on the meeting with the High King," Meffod reminded him with a healthy lashing of derision. "What did Gilb overhear husband mine?"

"That The Goblin King had found a Prophetic Pearl," recalled Yarbro, his eyes going wide. "And he knew who his intended was to be but he had to find her again, so we assumed he meant the human girl he had seemed so enamoured with."

The Goblin King hadn't been aware but thanks to Gilb, the Pinnsburrs had been able to watch her run via a mirror in their manor. It was how they knew he'd been defeated so soon. They'd seen him offer marriage to the girl. She was their leverage for revenge on Jareth for scuppering their chance at being parents.

They'd hoped by kidnapping her they could ransom her back to the king for the next wished away baby.

"Don't know why he'd go for that," shrugged Yarbro. "She is just a pathetic mortal."

"That's why we have the back up plan," sighed Meffod impatiently. "Forsythia is a good match for him."

"That plan hasn't really worked for the past 13 years though," Yarbro pointed out. "He's not interested."

"You dolt," Meffod reprimanded. "We know Jareth has been instructed to wed. If he refuses to pay the ransom for the human, Forsythia can take her place, as he'd have to produce a wife very soon. It's not like he has any better options floating around. As Queen she'll be our Puppet. If he doesn't claim the girl, we can at least train Forsythia to be just like her. That's got to keep him interested."

"I hope you're right," Yarbro responded. "The High King won't be happy if he finds out we have kidnapped a mortal."

"Then we give him no reason to find out," she hissed back. "Unless we find her, then it can't be traced back to us anyway."

"What if he has her?" Yarbro pondered. "That's why she's missing. He took her."

"Only one way to find out," Meffod indicated her spying mirror. "Summon Gilb and ask him."

Before they had a chance to there was a knock at the door.

"Enter," Meffod boomed.

"My Lady, My Lord," the servant elf bowed low. "The Goblin King wishes to speak to you. He's in the hallway."

Husband and wife exchanged looks before Meffod nodded her acceptance. "Send him in."

The elf scurried off and the two fae took themselves off to the settee in the centre of the room. Without saying a word to each other they knew that this meeting was unprecedented.

The elf came back and announced the Goblin King who came striding in wearing nothing but black, down to the boots, his belt, his cape and his riding crop. Even his eyes looked ominously black.

"Goblin King," Meffod nodded without rising from her seat. "Your arrival is unexpected."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Is it?" he responded in a distracted manner as he looked around. Being nobles they were not as rich as he was but they were certainly more showy with their rich tapestries and garish priceless art. Jareth considered their ostentatious show of wealth as quite vulgar, and that was saying something considering his penchant for glitter. "I thought it was about time I checked in on how childless couples are going. Are you still requiring my services?"

"Have you a new baby?" Yarbro inquired hopefully.

"No but we haven't had a wished away child for 13 years," Jareth disclosed in a calculating manner. "You see the way that people wish away their offspring is by storytelling. A little red book exists and usually when the wisher loses, they discard the book, for others to pick up. However, the last person to wish away a child won the Labyrinth. So she didn't have the same drive to get rid of the book. And instead she kept it."

Here Jareth paused and glared at the pair of them who had paled significantly at the royal fae's commanding presence.

"I have been unable to go to her for these past thirteen years. It seems that not only did she win her brother back, but as a result also prevented anyone else from being wished away at the same time. She has well and truly defeated the Labyrinth. But defeated our kind too. She kept that book. Imagine my surprise when I could finally go to her, that she had disappeared. In fact my crystals showed me she was back Underground."

He paused again waiting for a response from the married couple before him. They just stared back at him, after a few shifty glances between them.

"I imagine you can see my problem here with sourcing a new baby for you," Jareth drawled with complacency oozing out of his every pore.

"We haven't got her, if that's what you're implying," professed Yarbro shifting in his seat.

"I know," Jareth asserted, darkly scanning the pair in front of him. The scowl Meffod gave her husband didn't go unnoticed. "Your magic isn't strong enough to conceal her. She isn't here."

"You say you saw her Underground then you should know where she is," Yarbro insisted.

"She disappeared from my sight, from my magic," Jareth admitted albeit reluctantly. He didn't want to show this noxious couple any weakness what-so-ever. "So she is either dead or hidden by incredibly strong magic."

"If she is dead, then you should have no reason to suspect we know where she is," Yarbro expelled in one breath. "And if you claim strong magic hides her then we are clearly innocent."

Meffod gave her idiot husband a scornful look. It was common knowledge they were not a powerful family, but it was not usual practice to boast of it.

"If she is dead, I can not find the book, then the story ends," Jareth continued coolly after another heavy, tension laden pause. "If the story ends, there will be no more Stolen Pearls, no more babies for the fae."

"Why don't you just send a new book out into the Aboveground?" Yarbro suggested with a smirk.

"The book is older than I," the King informed them. "I believe that the Council of Beasts and Magical Creatures gifted the book to the fae around about the same time the supposed infertility curse was released upon our world. But there is nothing written in the annals. I base my opinion on hearsay and supposition. It is not as simple as sending a new book Aboveground as you suggest."

Jareth wanted to use Yarbro's weaker and more ignorant personality, in comparison to both himself, and the fae's wife, to his benefit. Yarbro twitched uncomfortably like he had something to say. Meanwhile, Meffod remained stony faced and aloof. However she was the one who spoke first.

"Let's hope you find her then," sneered Meffod, with a curl of her thin lips.

Jareth had hoped he could sense Sarah here but there was no trace. With his subtle threats he had hoped they would buckle and reveal the truth.

"And if you find her, be sure to inform me so I may retrieve the book," Jareth insisted. "If we ever want wished-away babes again, we need the book, but I need the girl first."

"Noted," acknowledged Meffod tautly, with a tilt of her honey blonde hair and a glare from her shaded deep-set eyes. "If she happens to stumble into our Manor in a kingdom far from the one you claimed she landed in, then we will let you know."

"Forsythia is not here today, which is a pity," threw in Yarbro. "We will let her know you called in. She would be so disappointed to hear she missed you."

Jareth narrowed his steely blue eyes, but kept his mouth closed on the subject. He had no interest in Forsythia. She was just another fae. No different from the rest of the cruel, calculating fae that existed out there.

Without any further communication to impart, Jareth spun on his heel and headed towards the door. He stopped briefly to bid farewell before he took his leave. Back outside, he transported himself magically back to his castle.

His plan B had yielded no results and he was still no closer to finding Sarah. He suspected the Pinnsburr's of some involvement but they were not powerful enough to hide her from his magic. They were stupid enough and spiteful enough to want revenge for things not going their way, but why would they have harmed Sarah? It didn't make sense. She was his most deeply kept secret. No-one but Sarah would ever know what he had offered her, and no-one would ever know how she had rejected him without a care. The only thing they knew of her was that she had won back her brother. They had no reason to suspect his attachment to her. None at all.

One thing was for certain though. He wouldn't cease looking until he found her. Without a body, he had no proof she was dead. He would keep an eye on his crystals and his Kingdom until he found her again. And he would find her again. No matter how long it took.


	4. Chapter 3

CHAPTER 3

The rough-hewn wooden cart bumped down the windy, rutted road into the village of Ghent just before sundown. Sarah's body ached from the rough and broken ride. Liam chatted in a good-natured manner nearly all the way, which had partially taken her mind off her aches and pains, and also her anxiety at being stuck in the Underground.

She thought of Hilary, probably worried about her just disappearing like that. The guilt that ate her up almost had her searching out Jareth herself to ask him to send her back. She couldn't have him finding her though. Liam may wax lyrical about his King, but Sarah didn't trust him.

Instead, she stayed put, gripping her hands even tighter to the edge of the cart, turning her knuckles white. It was out of fear of the unknown but also to stop her spontaneously hurling herself off the cart to find Jareth. He could never know she needed him. There was a price to pay for asking the fae for favours.

Instead, she was relying on a human stranger to take her in, feed her and clothe her. Miss Independent Sarah wasn't about to allow herself to be taken care of. She would pay her way, in any shape or form she had to. Even if it was just one night she stayed, she would ensure that she paid in kind.

She was tired, dressed as a cat, had been up late at the party and then awake for hours travelling in the cart, making her indecisive and vulnerable. She definitely needed a rest and tomorrow she would reassess what she would do. She didn't have the luxury of a well rested body and mind, to make life altering decisions. Her fatigue wouldn't even allow her the simple task of contemplating the question of what she should do; stay or go. If the ride wasn't so bumpy, she would have drifted off hours ago in her fatigue, despite the unknown man next to her.

The village they had arrived in stretched the distance of the valley, reminding Sarah of a quaint English town. It recalled images of the Goblin City to Sarah's mind, but the houses here were more human sized and better maintained. Trees lined the perimetre, enclosing the valley like a cosy scarf. Except for one side that opened up into fields and meadows.

Sarah took a deep breath, appreciating the view before her. Lush greenery situated cohesively aside the English cottages looked like something straight off a postcard. Perhaps one sent from her mother, who she hadn't seen in years.

Linda, had all but abandoned her as a child, leaving her and her father to fend for themselves. That is until Robert married Karen. Sarah often wondered if her feelings of abandonment played a critical role in the lead up to her Labyrinth adventure. Not that she was justifying or excusing her own actions. She had learnt to take responsibility for them long ago.

But Sarah had no idea if her mother was still alive. It had been ages since she had heard from her. A few postcards every few years and then an immeasurable period of nothing. If she ever had her own children, she would strive to be a better mother than her own had been. A better mother than she had been a sister. A sinking feeling plummeted into her stomach at the thought of Toby left to his aunt. She should have fought harder for him.

She remembered the last time she had seen him as the lawyers took him away, screeching and crying, trying to cling to her. She tried to remain strong for him, but it was so hard. She tried to visit, she tried to call, she tried to write. But she couldn't get near him. He was her version of a Stolen Pearl. Now she was stuck down here with no way to get back, she felt his loss even more. Maybe she could befriend a powerful fae and could magic Toby away from his aunt. The only powerful fae she knew, was the one she was trying to steer clear of and the two unknowns that had kidnapped her.

They had reached the other side of the village, and Liam pulled the cart to a stop outside an old-world cottage, with a thatched roof, surrounded by orchards and fields, still partially visible in the half light of the setting sun.

"Here we are, lass," he beamed with pride, throwing his blonde ponytail over his shoulder. "Cloverfield Cottage. Home for all us Spriggets."

He helped Sarah out of the cart with gloved hands, and she took the opportunity to stretch her aching muscles, the cool evening air invigorating her sleep-deprived and emotionally over-taxed body.

A little glint of warm candle light shone through the gap under the homely wooden front door, before expanding suddenly as the door flew open. In the door stood a slight woman who Sarah assumed was Helena, Liam's wife.

"Lena, this is Sarah," Liam greeted his wife with a fond kiss upon the woman's pale cheek. "Sarah, this is my wife Helena."

Helena stood there plaiting her dark wavy hair and smiling with plump rosy lips, that almost stretched to her dark, warm almond shaped eyes in a way that welcomed and comforted Sarah instantly.

"Liam, are you picking up strays again?" Helena laughed, and with a wink of those almond eyes, added, "This cat looks rather humanoid."

"She was at a party," Liam came to her rescue, handing her baskets from the back of the cart. Sarah clutched her few baskets and gave Helena a cautious smile.

"Strays are always welcome here," Helena chimed in her light, fruity voice. "Come in out of the Ghent night air."

And just like that, Sarah found herself ushered into their warm cottage, while Liam dealt with the horse and cart. Sarah found herself in a room with a central fireplace and a hard workhorse of a table, surrounded by various kitchen implements. A baby lay in the cradle near the fire, and a toddler sat on the rug staring up at the adults with his mother's oval eyes.

Helena picked up the toddler and placed him on her hip as she set about preparing the table for dinner.

"The rest of the children are in bed, through there," Helena pointed to a door off the side. "These two wanted their Dada before they hit the hay."

Sarah placed her baskets down on the table and set about aiding her host with preparing the dinner. Helena chatted to her children and uttered polite instructions to Sarah until Liam returned.

"Love, Sarah is from the Aboveground," Liam explained, as he came back through the door, shucking his woolen vest, hanging it on the hook by the door. "She believes she was kidnapped but knows no one Underground aside from the King. I found her running outside the walls of the Labyrinth."

"Welcome, Sarah," Helena greeted in a warm, sunny voice and a matching smile. "Let's enjoy a nourishing meal. Plenty for all of us."

They sat down to enjoy a hearty warm stew, while Sarah had taken note of Helena's reactions to his mention of the Goblin King as he related her journey to their heath. She had raised her brows and chuckled, under her breath.

"So you've met the King, but you don't want to go to him lassie?"

"I met the King but once, and have reason to believe I wouldn't be welcome a second time," Sarah didn't want to go into further detail that she had rejected his advances and defeated his Labyrinth. "It's nothing criminal or the like. I just don't want to ask him for help."

"Ah, pride! But he will probably be the only soul who can help you in the end. Eat up." It wasn't ominous but Sarah didn't want the reminder that the only way she could return home was in the power of the one man who had no power over her. It would be admitting defeat. And yes, pride played a part. It always did. But she was strong. Fierce. Independent. She wouldn't allow herself to be vulnerable. Weak. Powerless. Not for any man, and certainly not for Him.

Over dinner they talked about how she got there and her life above. Helena was more than happy for Sarah to help with the house and the children.

"You can stay as long as you like. For sure I have eight wee ones and Liam works the field all day. Your help would be a blessed relief. I don't have enough limbs for eight of the wee blighters."

An image of an octopus-like creature, with a child dangling on the end of each tentacle, while preparing a dinner meal, sweat on its brow, but a still smile on its face came to mind. How Helena seemed so chirpy with such a burden was beyond Sarah's imagination. Especially given her own track record of wishing away children in her care. She wondered if any of the Underground humans wished their children away. Probably not, because of their heritage. And the fae probably didn't after what she was just told about how hard it was for them to conceive.

"I'm more than happy to help in any way I can," an eager agreement. "I can't thank you both enough for taking in a Stranger like you have."

"It's nothing," Liam dismissed with a wave of a hand. "Us humans have always taken in others. That's how we've continued to exist."

"Above-grounders could learn a lot from you," Sarah smiled, stifling a yawn. She had had her second wave of alertness and now the sleepiness congruent with a full stomach was taking over.

"Ah, tonight, you can have the sofa, and if you plan on staying longer, we'll sort out a bed in the morrow," Helena started clearing the table. Sarah took her lead and scooped up dishes and cutlery, following her to the tub. "You look beat."

"It has been a very long day," yawned Sarah, unable to suppress it any longer.

"We should find you something more comfortable to wear," Helena's mouth twitched as she ran her eyes up and down Sarah's body. Through her fatigue, Sarah had forgotten she was still dressed as a black cat.

Sarah laughed at herself, stumbling over her words as she explained her attire. "I was at a party. When I was kidnapped, I had been at a party. It was a dress up party."

"Samhain?" Helena asked. "Liam had errands to run out west, so unfortunately we missed the Samhain festivities this year."

"Halloween, but they are similar I believe."

"Your aura is more powerful than that of a familiar," Helena mused, more to herself than Sarah. "I am surprised you chose to dress as a cat."

"Not now, Lena," Liam had joined them in clearing up, before he scooped up one of the waiting children. "Let Sarah settle for the night before you start all that."

Helena took the two remaining children off to their room and returned with swathes of cotton in her arms.

"We can discuss any essentials you may need if you plan on staying," she passed the bundle of fabric that Sarah presumed was a nightgown, over to her "But for now wear this."

Not long after, she had washed outside with a bucket of water warmed by the fire, with only a lantern for light, so she was able to dress in one of Helena's nightgowns without feeling extremely unclean. As predicted the white flowy material covered every square inch of her, practically drowning her in yards of fabric. She wasn't going to complain considering her predicament and her state of near collapse.

The couch wasn't the most comfortable bed space but Sarah was too exhausted to care, plopping down as soon as she was free to do so and shuffling under the covers. Her feeling of anxiety about her predicament warred with her feelings of belonging that Liam and Helena's kindness inspired in her. Eventually her tiredness steamrolled over both sets of feelings and she knew no more until dawn.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dawn arrived with the noise of drums and chanting. Sarah's first thought was that she was under attack. She shot up from her prone position only to be hit with memories of her situation, compounded by singing children that surrounded her from all sides, banging pots and pans in jubilation.

She recalled she was Underground and with no way home aside from seeking the assistance of the one person she could not talk to. The irony of asking a kidnapper to rescue her from her kidnappers was not lost on her.

"My name is Tessa," a cessation in noise allowed her to focus on a small voice interrupting her reverie. "What's your name?"

"Hello Tessa," she yawned, rubbing her bleary green eyes with the palms of her hands. "My name is Sarah."

"Like from the stories?" another voice chirped up.

"What stories?" Sarah's interest was piqued.

"About the Princess who saves all the Goblins from..."The second child started.

"No, that's not right, Matty," Tessa scolded. "Sarah is the Champion of the Labyrinth. She saves all the babies and marries the King."

"No she doesn't marry the King," Matty huffed. "Mama said that the king has to marry a princess."

"But Sarah is a princess, so he married her because she saved all the babies. The babies were going to be eaten by the Ttchl, don't you know?"

"No, Tessa," Matty stomped his foot, his wee young eyes filling to the brim with tears. "She saves the Goblins from the Pifinarifa but she does not marry the King."

"Well, Sarah?" Tessa turned back to face her. "Are you a princess that saved the babies from the Ttchl or the ordinary person who saved the Goblins from the Pifinarifa?"

'But this is not a gift for an ordinary girl, who takes care of a screaming baby.

The Goblin King's voice was suddenly in her head after all this time. Both stories had an element of truth and an element of absolute fantasy, given that she had no idea what a Ttchl or a Pifinarifa were. Was her story now an urban myth? She looked down at the children staring up at her with their deep soulful eyes and smiled, weakly.

"Whilst I am not the Princess that saved babies from the Ttchl or an ordinary girl that saved the Goblins from the Pifinarifa," Sarah sucked in a deep breath. "I am just Sarah from another realm."

"So you will marry the King?" Tessa asked hopefully.

"No, indeed. I am an independent Sarah from the kingdom of New York. I have no need to marry a King."

Especially of the Goblin variety, Sarah thought.

"Did you at least slay a dragon?"

"No, Sir Matty," Sarah teased. "There are no great beasts where I come from. Only very bad humans that do very bad things to other humans and animals."

"Did you slay some of them?" Matty asked with a glint of hope in his brown eyes.

"Alas, I did not. I did once elbow a man in his nose, giving him a concussion."

"I see you've met Tessa and Matty," Helena observed as she walked in the room, basket of linen under her arm. "I hope they didn't wake you. I instructed them to let you rest, lassie."

"If the house is up and about, then I should be too," Sarah rose up out of bed, clutching the sheets and blankets to her chest.

"It's not every day you get kidnapped so you're allowed a lie in," Helena said as she busied herself around the room. "After you've eaten, we will discuss your plans."

Sarah, now dressed in a lilac day dress, sat down to consume a thick, creamy porridge and a cup of tea. Whilst she was eating, she was introduced to the rest of the children. In age order they were: Alicia, Robby, Tessa, Matty, Simon, Janey, Lewis, and Peggy.

They all had various shades of light brown to sandy blonde hair with deep almond shaped brown eyes. They certainly had their parents warmth and friendliness, some of them giving her gentle hugs. The house seemed way too small with all of them present but rather than chaos and mess, the children were obliging in their chores and everything had its own natural rhythm as they worked through the morning. It felt like a choreographed dance, with no one taking a single step out of line. It was mesmerising as much as it was harmonious.

Sarah busied herself with assisting with the chores throughout the morning, stopping for a lunch of bread and cheese before continuing with cleaning and cooking. There were no modern conveniences so the lack of progress Sarah made, was overshadowed by her enthusiasm. Of course throughout the entire day she thought and contemplated her options, when any chance arose where there was even a slight break in the organised pandemonium that was a small house teeming with life.

On one hand, being on the same plane of existence as Toby achieved nothing, but being a world away felt like a bigger betrayal. She was escaping Mark and all the baggage he brought into her life. But there was little else she was leaving behind. If Toby was with her, her answer would be easy. But she didn't want to outstay her welcome here either. If she could find a job, then she could take care of herself, and not be dependent on strangers.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Eventually, the afternoon gave way to evening and Liam came and joined them while Alicia and Robby took the children outside so the adults could talk.

"So how was your night?" Liam asked kindly.

"I slept very well." She sipped her hot, steamy tea as they got comfortable at the rustic table. A table that would look right at home in a boho chic magazine. "Your children are just delightful."

"No surprises we kept having more," Liam winked at his wife, who giggled girlishly, before winking back to her husband.

"So we only have 3 bedrooms," Liam continued. "The oldest two bunk in the attic. We divided the area up there so they have their own space. The younger two bunk in with me and the wife. Tessa and Janey share one room and Matty and Simon the other.

"But we could bring down one of either Alicia and Robby so you can have an attic space or we can make a third space up in the attic, which we were planning to do anyway, then the boys can go up there, and you can have their room. They are the options if you decide to stay."

"Thank you so much for your kindness," Sarah prefaced her contribution to the conversation with her gratitude. "I am honestly bewildered with your generosity."

Generous? What have you done that is generous?" Her own voice echoed to her over the years. She swallowed her jumble of feelings and focused on the task at hand.

"I don't want anyone to be put out," she continued. "I have no idea what I am doing here. I have no idea if my kidnappers will find me again. I don't know them or their purpose for bringing me here. As, if you say, my only option is J...is the King of the Goblins, or staying here, for now I have to beg to stay here. If you are happy for me to trespass on your kindness, I will do what I can to earn my keep. I can cook, clean, look after the children..."

"Thank you Sarah, but the boys will love moving up to the attic," Helena grinned. "They've been begging me for months. They will have you to thank, so certainly no one will be put out. We don't expect you to do more than your share. Helping with the children and perhaps collecting eggs or vegetables may be all we expect for now. Long term we can discuss any further responsibilities. The children all play their part as it is their home too."

"I fully support everything Lena just said," Liam added with a gentle laugh. "The boys will both love moving to the attic. If you change your mind, then we support that too. We don't know each other, but we've taken Farm Hands on before that we knew even less about. We have a good feeling about you and Helena can sense your aura, so we think it will work out nicely. "

Helena had explained that her relative many generations ago had been part fae, so she could interpret people's auras, due to some latent magic in her blood. Sarah apparently had a powerful one, but did not want to disclose too much about her aura, in case it became a self-fulfilling prophecy. Suffice to say, it was an aura that led both the Sprigetts to trust her implicitly. Even with her vague mentions of how she knew the Goblin King.

They conceded that they could take it day by day, and respected any decision Sarah made to finally consult the Goblin King about her way home. Employment was scarce in the village but they would keep an ear out for any opportunities to seek her own independence. A discussion of her skills followed, and aside from some rudimentary sewing and knitting skills, there weren't many old-world skills Sarah had that she could really utilise. Boys were used on the farms and as manual labour, drawing many parallels with the Aboveground Medieval period. However, Sarah learnt that men could marry men and women could marry women if they so choose, showing that at least in some things they were more advanced than their Aboveground counterparts. Sarah insisted that if she could get paid to do some heavy lifting, she would be up to the task.

Ironic, how circumstances and environments can change a person's outlook on life. With a warm, loving home to live in, the need to prove oneself and join the rat race seemed less important than ever before. Each day Sarah would contemplate her options, but she chose to stay with Liam and Helena. She found her groove within the house. She found her place within the dance, so to speak, not stepping on toes or tripping over her own. She would fetch the eggs, feed the chickens, tend the vegetable patch, play with the children, and help out with the others if she came to a loose end.

As the weeks passed, she was able to have clothes made for her. They were simple and plain but were hers. The flow of the house adjusted to accommodate her but they seemed to naturally fall in sync with one another. Sarah had never had such a strong sense of belonging. It was overwhelming being under the wing of people who genuinely held love and respect for her, though she was naught but a stranger.

She established a solid relationship with the children and eased Helena's burden significantly with all the help she provided. Her and Helena got on like a house on fire, and Sarah grew quickly accustomed to the simple village life.

Each night she would fall asleep soundly, after a hard day's work, to rise early to tend to her duties. No one ever came looking for her, and she started to feel safe in her new life. She met most of the villagers who were friendly and welcoming. She went to the market weekly, taking some of the children with her.

She thought about Toby often wondering if he was whole and hale. He was, in reality, the only thing she wanted to go back for. As the months drew on, she was less and less tempted to approach the Goblin King to ask for passage back Above. Liam and Helena never pressed the subject, reaping the benefits of having someone they liked help around the cottage. Sarah was also less likely to try for independence, having found a family unit that included her and appreciated her. She did not want to sacrifice the bonds she had made to live on her own. She lost her own family, but now she had made a new one from strangers that were now friends.

So life continued thus for nearly two years. It wasn't to last forever.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sarah had not seen the Goblin King since she arrived back Underground in the two years she had been stuck down here. She was informed that he often visited the market and main Street for parades and festivals throughout the course of a year, but Sarah had been lucky enough to avoid even a glimpse of him.

Until just before the anniversary of her second year Underground. The whole family made the trek into the village for the Annual Harvest Parade. Sarah could hardly refuse but she wasn't about to be caught by him after all this time.

She kept the swell of the crowd pressed close to her, using the bodies and the shadows to her advantage. He could not see her. She wouldn't allow herself to be discovered after so long. From her current spot she could see the Royal open-top carriage rumbling down the cobbled street. The noise of the crowd, that had been a gentle murmur, instantly turned into riotous cacophony at the sight of their King. Not, however, in the way Sarah had expected. Resisting her own urge to throw rotten vegetables, and yell scathing insults, she was swift to notice it was adoration and flowers he received from his human subjects.

This was the first time Sarah had laid eyes on the Goblin King in nearly 15 years. He was exactly the same, dressed in body hugging greens and greys, he looked every part the fearsome King of her childhood. He sat high in the carriage waving down with a surprisingly genuine smile at the people lining the street.

As the carriage pulled level with her, she sunk deeper into the mire of bodies. The Goblin King drawing parallel with her, stopped her breath and heart for more reasons than just fear. Her senses were on full alert and adrenaline overwhelmed her nervous system as the carriage came to an unprecedented cessation. The Goblin King climbed down to the jubilant cries and cheers of the village. He took lazy strides in her direction.

Instead of delving into the crowd to hunt her down like she anticipated, he stood in front of the small group of children that included Janey and Simon waiting ahead of the milling villagers. And again in an unprecedented move he knelt down taking their childish offerings of flowers and gifts, patting them on the shoulder in gratitude, his honest beaming smile never leaving his finely crafted face. In turn, he twisted a crystal in his hand, releasing it into a glittery butterfly of fire and light making the children jump, cry, clap and whoop in their excitement.

Sarah felt eyes upon her and glancing back up to the carriage she noticed another fae, strikingly similar to the King in demeanor and looks, leaning back into the plush cushions with one booted leg crossed casually over his knee. His piercing blue eyes dissected her as she stood half melted into shadows. His face split with a knowing grin and he tossed his head away from her in a silent laugh.

Sarah stumbled backwards. He wasn't Jareth but there was no mistaking the similarities. He had to be related somehow. But why did he look at her like that? Like he knew who she was? Sarah watched him from the shadows but he didn't look her way again. Not even as Jareth returned to the carriage. He leaned over to the Goblin King and mouthed something, but neither of them turned her way. They just went off on their royal way to greet more villagers.

Still shaking from seeing the man who haunted her dreams and nightmares alike she made her way towards Simon and Janey so they could return to the rest of the family.

"Did you see that, Sarah?" Janey gushed. "He took my flower."

"I did see, yes and I saw that he made a butterfly."

"No it was a dragon," corrected Janey.

"No, a butterfly," Simon argued. "Butterflies are way cooler than boring old dragons."

"Maybe it was a dragon butterfly?" Janey suggested diplomatically.

"Oh yeah cool," Simon agreed. They chatted about the King excitedly all the way back to their parents. Sarah took Peggy, now a toddler into her arms as they made their way home.

"Who was the male in the carriage?" Sarah asked Helena as they trudged home up the dirt road.

"That's one of the Goblin King's brothers," Helena smirked. "His name is Prince Sevlydi, the younger brother of our King. He also has an older brother and an older sister, but they're both from a different mother to Prince Sevlydi and King Jareth, and they never visit the Goblin Kingdom."

"Why is that?" Sarah's curiosity was piqued, as after all this time, she eschewed all allusions to the Goblin King, so knew very little about him.

"Below them, most likely. Ruling and governing humans and Goblins isn't exactly full of prestige."

"But surely they'd still want to spend time with their brother?" Sarah questioned thinking of Toby.

"Fae don't treat familial links the same way us humans do," Liam chimed in. "I know you've had nothing to do with the fae in your time with us, so you wouldn't know. Remember when I first met you? How I told you they were cruel and cold towards their stolen pearls?"

Sarah nodded, biting the inside of her mouth in apprehension, as Liam continued.

"They treat their fae offspring better in comparison if they have both, but they're still cold and indifferent to their own kind. Jareth and Sevlydi were raised by a different mother than the older two. My grandfather who worked in the castle told me that Cerirmath, Jareth and Sevlydi's mother, was an upstanding fae. Kind and gentle as far as fae go. Made all the difference to those two. "

Sarah found it hard to believe Jareth had a mother, let alone a kind one.

"And all of the Goblin King's family are fae born and not stolen pearls?" She asked as they crested the hill before the cottage.

"Yes," Helena answered. "Though if you ask me, despite how handsome he is, we don't need a king."

"Lena, Lassie doesn't need to hear your self rule argument again," Liam groaned affectionately squeezing his wife's shoulder.

"And why not?" Helena huffed. "The lass lives here now. She is a citizen. She should be given the choice about whether or not she should be governed by a handsome fae or form a self governed human colony."

"A citizen who is woefully unaware of the members of the royal family," Liam winked at her. "Perhaps you're right, you both should form the self governing movement together."

"I'm not sure Janey or Simon would approve," Sarah rejoined, ruffling the hair of the child in front of her. "They seemed to love their encounter with His Majesty."

"Aye, they sure did," Liam acknowledged. "Tessa was very envious."

They walked the rest of the way home discussing the parade as Sarah thought on what she'd seen and heard. Jareth having a brother was a surprise to her. It was true, over the past two years she had avoided any mention of the King and anything that entailed. The children talked of him often, and Sarah would indulge them with smiles and stories but would do her best to deflect the conversation on to safer topics.

In her mind's eye she kept seeing Sevlydi looking at her and then laughing as he turned away. She puzzled over what it could mean, if it in fact meant anything at all. Images of the Goblin King interacting with the children flashed in the forefront of her mind, interrupting her ruminations about his brother. Sarah had to admit that as an adult seeing him for the first time since she was 15, Helena was not wrong about his level of attractiveness. Still, she would maintain her avoidance of him. Kind to children he may be, but would he be so tolerant of destroyers of Goblin Cities and escher rooms?


	5. Chapter 4

CHAPTER FOUR

TWO YEARS AFTER ARRIVING UNDERGROUND

Sarah made her way to the village from Cloverfield Cottage with Tessa and Lewis in tow. A basket of carrots and a basket of eggs were slung over each of her arms as they meandered to the marketplace, in the aim of a trade for some fruit and wheat. Hopefully she could also barter for some wool as the colder months were approaching and the youngest Spriggets desperately needed some warmer clothes. After wearing the clothes the 6 older children had worn already, things were starting to get a bit threadbare.

Lewis and Tessa held hands as they skipped down the dusty track past flourishing viridescent fields and orchards. Sarah trailed them slightly, swinging one arm with the basket of carrots as she meandered down the sloping road. She loved her Market Day walk to the village in the peace and tranquility that Ghent afforded its inhabitants.

The village reflected Sarah's own mood, though she was starting to crave some adventure. Despite living in a fairy tale place, there was the little niggle in the back of her mind asking for more excitement to balance out the orderly and serene malaise and languor of her daily life. Not that she wished for her kidnappers to return, nor an encounter with the arrogant Goblin King but she was a dreamer. And there wasn't much scope for dreaming in a perfectly idyll life where the biggest drama was when the pigs had escaped into the garden. Idyll it was, idle it certainly was not. Sarah had never been fitter or healthier with all the manual labour and walking she had been doing. The lack of modern conveniences and transport really highlighted this different pace of life for her.

Arriving in the market, the villagers greeted her, warmly and enthusiastically, but she realised, without real depth or meaning. Not even the Spriggets knew Sarah on a very deep level. They knew her likes and dislikes, but they didn't know her hopes and dreams, but then again, did she really know what they were herself?

Lost in the deep recesses of her mind, as Tessa took responsibility for bartering at the first stall, she didn't notice when someone started talking to her.

"Sorry," Sarah focused back on the present. "I was very far away."

"Apologies for interrupting," a cool, dulcet voice came from her elbow. She turned and saw a young human with long brown hair and a neatly trimmed beard standing beside her. He wore what most farmers around the village wore but he carried himself differently than the men she usually met. His deep brown eyes held a sparkle that was almost alluring in nature.

"I haven't seen you around Ghent before," Sarah blurted out.

"That's because I hail from a village on the West side of the Labyrinth " came his smooth reply. "I was asking if you would mind trading some eggs for these here peaches and I will even throw in some wool, freshly shorn from my sheep."

Sarah eyed the peaches suspiciously.

"Ohh yes, Sarah," Tessa chirped up. "I love peaches. They're so rare to find. Please accept."

Sarah looked at Tessa's brown eyes staring up at with hope. Lewis was nodding vigorously beside her endorsing his sister's beseechment. Despite her own misgivings about peaches, she couldn't deny her foster family if they were really as rare as she suggested.

"Sarah is it?" The man smiled at her nod, showing perfect teeth that had no right being so dazzling white in the mouth of a mere human. "The name is Stephen."

"Nice to meet you Stephen," Sarah shuffled her baskets from hand to hand, with mistrust. She wanted to trust him, but she was suspicious of why she wanted to trust him. He was a stranger. A complete unknown who just happened to have two of the three products she was seeking.

"Your daughter is right about the rarity of peaches," he winked, making his coppery eyes momentarily shimmering with incandescence. "I offer you a good deal."

"Tessa is my friend's daughter," Sarah corrected him. "I have no children of my own."

"Indeed," Stephen proffered his basket of peaches again. "Will you accept?"

Sarah thought of the Spriggets, knowing what a treat this would be for them. They had done so much for her, taking her in when they did. Who knows what would have become of her if she had been left stranded outside the Labyrinth. It would be nice to give them such a luxury, despite her reluctance to have anything to do with the fruit.

They were after all at the market for fruit, but this had been too convenient. Here in the Underground, you couldn't take anything for granted. She was keenly aware of the niggle that had been asking for adventure on their journey here, when a strange man turns up with the produce she needs. She was asking for trouble to accept anything from this stranger. Especially cursed peaches. Something out of her control was compelling her to accept this man's wares, despite her misgivings.

"And some wool too?" Sarah clarified, hoping to make the most of her barter.

"If that serves a purpose," he offered.

"It does actually," Sarah grinned. "I feel like your trade is exceedingly generous."

"Of course, I only hope it lives up to your expectations," he gave a small bow. "Ghent eggs are some of the best in the region so it is worth a trade for wool and peaches."

"Actually, I am not very fond of peaches, but my friends are," Sarah admitted. "They will be exceedingly grateful to you."

"I've never met anyone who dislikes peaches," he raised a dark eyebrow. "Bad experience with one in your past?"

"You could say that I guess," Sarah thought back to the drugged peach she had the first time she was here. She looked Stephen in the face but there was nothing there to suggest familiarity. She shrugged off her suspicions. Aside from being human, he bore no similarities to the fae who had given her the peach in the first place.

"So do we have a deal?" Stephen asked, as Tessa and Lewis hovered in anticipation, practically jumping up and down.

"They're not enchanted are they?" Sarah questioned as a last recourse.

"Not at all," he raised both eyebrows. He took a knife from his umber leather boot. "Pick one and I will prove it."

Sarah selected a peach at random and passed it to him. He cut a slice off, showed her and then stuck it in his mouth and then opened wide for her to inspect its disappearance.

"I'm not sure why peaches of all things have you worried about enchantments," as he took another slice.

"I am not sure how easy wool would be to enchant," Sarah reasoned. Though she briefly considered that there was a mortal fable or tale that involved enchanted wool, but as she chased the memory, it slipped from her grasp completely.

"And you suspect me of enchanting my produce?" He smirked. "For what purpose?"

"I have learnt never to take anything for granted," Sarah bit her lip. "Nothing is ever quite what it seems."

"Good advice," he nodded sagely. "Your teacher must have been wise beyond their years."

"I'm not sure I'd agree with you on that either," Sarah muttered, thinking that her "teacher" was more her own guilt for wishing her brother away.

"So now we know my peaches are not enchanted, would you like to trade?" Stephen raised the basket into her eye line.

"Sure," Sarah handed over her eggs and he passed her the basket of peaches and the one of wool. "But we're short on one peach."

"Hard negotiator," he chuckled. "I will come back next market day with a peach. Or you could tell me where you live and I could drop it off before then?"

Before Sarah could refuse Lewis chirped up that they lived in Cloverfield Cottage.

"Thank you, young man," he grinned and then winked at Sarah, his eyes again glimmering with that unusual lustre. "Expect a delivery of a single peach within the week."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~^~~

On a mahogany table, a half eaten fruit rested under the shadow of an ornate lamp. Juices dripped off the bite mark, down the velvety flesh of the peach, staining the white doily the lamp was positioned on. A pair of midnight black gloved hands, reached out and seized the fruit before taking another slow bite, ensuring more juice flowed freely across the fuzzy skin.

"Those Damn Goblin Kingdom peaches," a simpering voice echoed in the dusty room. "Why do they have to taste so delightful? And why do they only grow in that cursed land?"

"Why do you have to eat them at all?" responded a short and snappy voice.

"Ah but without them we would never have found out the location of our runaway mortal," responded the shrill, nasal voice, taking another bite of the succulent crop. "Thankfully the tip with the peaches paid off. Our plan to bring the Goblin King to his knees is back on track."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sarah didn't expect Stephen the peach man to turn up again just for one peach. Though after their trade, he stayed with their trio, accompanying them around a few more stalls, as Sarah traded for some wheat with the carrots he did not want. They discussed life in Ghent compared to his village. He put Sarah at ease quite quickly with his friendly manner, while Lewis and Tessa enjoyed showing him all that the market had to offer. Before he left he treated them all a sweet fruit pastry each.

A few days had passed as there was no sign of him. Sarah swallowed her apprehension that there was any possibility he had anything to do with her kidnappers or her nemesis, the Goblin King. She couldn't blame Lewis for spilling the beans on where they lived. He was only a child.

However, whilst doing her work in the vegetable patch or the chicken coop, she would be keeping half an ear out for strangers turning up. Even though so much time had passed, she could never truly relax. They had to have brought her here for a reason. They could just be biding their time until she grew complacent. A stranger turning up and giving her peaches, seemed too much of a coincidence. The family had eaten them all however to no ill effect.

In fact they had been astonished by the basket of ripe fruit that Sarah returned to Cloverfield Cottage with. And even more so with the wool. Thankfully, they were used in cobbler or juiced or eaten whole and were quickly out of sight, out of mind. Unfortunately, that didn't stop the insinuations and even innuendo from her friends about the mysterious man at the market.

"You don't know how rare peaches are here," Helena was saying as they both started knitting socks and scarves for the younger children. "Only growing in the Goblin Kingdom, we hardly ever get them at the market, as so many of them get exported. You sure got someone's attention today."

Tessa had told her parents how a young man had been conversing with Sarah and it had become the talk of the household. Helena couldn't stop asking questions and Sarah had become fatigued of the subject already. The man was peculiar and there was something about him that captured attention for sure, but Sarah was in no way ready for anything more romantic like they implied. Profusely. Any chance they got.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Two years," he growled and threw a crystal across the room, shattering it against his stone walls. "Two goddamn years and still no sign of her."

For over 700 days straight he'd consult his crystals to see if Sarah would appear. And she never did. He'd had no luck reaching for her through any means, magical or not.

Yet, he didn't think she was dead. Something within him spoke of her being alive. He would randomly check on the Pinnsburrs, but they remained tight-lipped about their involvement. And they didn't appear to have any further knowledge to impart.

Jareth was slumped over his throne, one leg dangling over the arm, the other brought up to his chest so he could rest his arm across it. His free arm he used to cradle his head as he willed his headache away. The High King was applying pressure as he still hadn't delivered his promised wife. His family also thought Forsythia was a great match for him too, and they were acting like he was already married to the insipid female fae. He gritted his teeth at this insufferable thought.

And yet two years of searching still hadn't yielded him the results he needed. Somewhere out there his wife, his actual wife, was hiding and he was getting desperate.

"My dear brother," a ringing, silvery voice echoed through his throne room. Jareth didn't even look up to greet his younger brother, the almost mirror image of his own self, just with two even clear blue eyes, a rounder face and nose, and longer, less wild hair.

"Sev," he responded simply.

"Are you sulking over that girl again?"

"Sulking?" Jareth snapped his head up and glared at his impudent brother, through cold uneven sapphire eyes. "Would you like to see me married to Forsythia?"

"I believed you didn't care who you married at one point." Sevlydi pointed out. "Now because an elf that gave you a pearl in a cave told you to marry some mortal, you believe you have to."

Jareth sweeped his feet from his throne and strode over to his sibling.

"A unicorn sacrificed that pearl so that I may discover who I am to marry," Jareth stated grimly. "It wouldn't do to make that sacrifice a mere vanity. Besides she is a much better choice than Forsythia. She has a mind of her own for starters."

"Jare, anyone is a better choice than Forsythia," he agreed. "But you've been searching for this girl for two years, and waiting for her thirteen more. The High Court gets impatient. Omre and Nudalun are getting agitated. You don't want them to get agitated."

At the mention of their half brother and sister, Jareth flicked his riding crop against his thigh in frustration.

"Omre and Nudalun can go f...," Jareth started as he paced up and down the throne room before turning to face his brother, irregular eyes narrowing in suspicion. "Sev, why are you here?"

"Ah," Sevlydi grinned, pushing his blonde hair behind his ears. "I have something to show you."

"And that would be?" Jareth inquired impatiently - another thwack against his thigh with the riding crop.

"It's a surprise."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The hills around Cloverfield Cottage were ringing with birdsong, the fields warm with the rising noon sun and the trees rustled with the dry wind coming up from the desert lands. Sarah and Peggy were shuffling around the garden, singing and dancing as they picked apples from the trees.

Sarah would sing the nursery rhymes from Aboveground to the younger children, who loved them. Peggy was nearly two and half and grew up knowing Sarah was a constant presence so they had formed a special bond. Sarah loved their time together singing and playing.

Alicia, Robby and Matty weren't far off from where Sarah and Peggy were, painting the outdoor shed, occasionally singing their own Underground ditty. While she got on well with all eight of the children, she was closest to Penny, and had less to do and less in common with the older ones. They were civil towards each other, but not really anymore than civil. It seemed to work though. Like a family out of a storybook, instead of real flawed and dysfunctional families that were a pound a penny back Aboveground. Sarah had not been used to this synchronised life where things just seemed to flow seamlessly without any ripples. Now it was an accepted part of her everyday.

Like they were just people painted into a countryside landscape, everything idyll and perfect. She tried to bury those whispers that the waters of her life were due some disturbances and carried on singing and throwing apples towards Peggy to catch and place in the basket.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"So why are we in Ghent in glamours?" Jareth asked as they walked through the village.

"Because I have something to show you and you can not be recognised," Sevlydi responded. "What your choice is, once you see what I have to show you, is completely yours to determine."

"What do you have to show me?" Jareth asked for the umpteenth time, his patience a frayed rope holding a ten tonne weight.

"Wait and see," his brother grinned, running his hand through his glamoured beard, rusty brown like his hair that sat high on his head in a bun.

Jareth had chosen a similar glamour so none of his features would strike any recognition with the Ghent villagers. For once in his life he had matching eyes, in a deep shade of cinnamon brown, his hair shorter and darker than his brother's.

Jareth trusted his brother. But even by Sevlydi's standards this was strange. It was rare that he would use glamour magic and rarer still that he let himself be led without knowing where he was going. He was a King and as such had expected a large amount of control over his own life. Yet he knew his brother wouldn't lead him afoul.

They wended their way through the village and started up the hill towards the thriving countryside, Sevlydi chattering on about the village and its people. Jareth was actually quite fond of Ghent. They were solely a human populace but they were friendly and inclusive.

They accepted newcomers into the fold with relative ease and minimum suspicion. Some of his other towns had darker folk living within, especially the ones on the border. He got to spend more time in those as there was always one skirmish or another to deal with. Ghent, he unfortunately, only really visited on official parades or festivals.

He enjoyed the walk through the orchards and fields, though he still didn't know why he was there. The last time he had been there it was for the Harvest Parade. Sevlydi never left his side. What could he have seen that would interest him so?

The road petered out as they approached a farm house at the top of the hill. It was a quaint cottage. Not very large, but well maintained and surrounded by trees and gardens. Jareth could see children painting the outside of a shed, and then amongst the fruit trees a toddler was running through the trunks, singing while being chased by an adult.

An adult with long raven dark hair. Instantly he recognised who she was. She was recognisable anywhere, with her distinctive hair and aura. Jareth stopped dead in his tracks. It had to be a mistake. She couldn't be here in a farmhouse garden, happily chasing a child, as if he hadn't existed in a state of utter torment for the past twenty four months. Yet the longer he stared at her, the more convinced he was that it was her, but more carefree and lively than he had ever seen her before. On that fact alone, he was beginning to slip back into doubt. He had never seen his Sarah as untroubled as this lady prancing through the greenery and blossoms. She twirled around the trunk of an apple tree, sending leaves and apple blossoms cascading down onto her face and hair - her laughter rippling across the distance like in so many of his dreams.

Sarah.

Sevlydi, slowed and turned to face his brother.

"We're going to need names," Sevlydi grinned. "I'm Stephen. They know me by that name already. I suggest Terry for you."

Jareth's hands curled into fists at his side. He'd deal with his brother later.

Right now he was focusing on the fact that he was currently standing very close to his wife, or at least her image likeness. He still could not believe it was truly her. Sevlydi was playing a juvenile trick on him much like they had spent their youth together. But this was cruel, too cruel. No it had to be her. She had been right under his nose. And he finally found her. He found his feet were moving on their own accord. Sevlydi smirked and then led the way to the cottage.

Sarah.

Sarah, for he now knew it was her, was singing Aboveground nursery rhymes as she chased the young child through the trees. He could sense the joy flowing off her, lighting up her face and bringing a contagious smile to her delicate features. The child giggled and let Sarah wrap her arms around her in a warm embrace before twirling her around.

Sarah had a child? Was she married? Again? Jareth's heart stilled as he contemplated how fate would play such a cruel trick on him once more. The girl-child would be the same age as the time she had been Underground. And they seemed to have the bond of a mother and child. His heart plummeted further. How could he walk to her whilst his heart was in his boots?

One look from Sevlydi, and he followed his brother meekly, well, as meekly as he was even capable of, to learn if his destiny could be realised or would be shattered. Was the pearl prophecy about to be stolen from him, like the pearls were stolen from their masters? Poetic justice, maybe, but excruciatingly painful to his principles and future right now.

"Sarah," Sevlydi called, waving a hand genially in her direction. She spun around, green eyes appraising the pair of them. Sevlydi had met her? And this was how he chose to reveal her to him? Both in disguise. Both with new names. Without any warning. Why didn't he tell his own brother that he knew where his wife was? When he had been searching so desperately.

Sarah smiled warmly but cautiously at Sevlydi, holding the toddler close to her body as she sat on her hip. The girl leaned her head against Sarah's shoulder and scrutinised the two men with deep soulful nut brown eyes, as she sucked her thumb.

"I've come to deliver your peach, as promised," Sevlydi proffered a basket full to the brim with luscious peaches.

"That's more than one," Sarah pointed out, jiggling the girl on her hip, as she stroked the babe's sandy locks.

"Your lucky day then," his grin widened. "Do I ask too much to introduce you to my brother, Terry?"

"Of course not, Stephen," Sarah turned to face Jareth, those green eyes pierced through his very soul as they regarded his glamour, from his tame auburn hair, to his tame tawny stubble across his chin, to his deep chocolate-coloured matching eyes. No look of recognition passed her bright, mesmerising eyes, just honest and open scrutiny.

"Sarah, this is Terry," he patted his brother on the shoulder. "Terry, this is Sarah. I met her at the market a few days passed."

"Nice to meet you, Terry," Sarah beamed widely, welcoming Jareth so warmly, it was unexpected. "This little madam here is Peggy."

Peggy, the toddler gave a slight smile from behind her pudgy toddler hand, thumb still firmly secured in her rosy mouth.

"Enchanted to meet you and your daughter," Jareth bowed his head to both of them, swallowing the lump that formed at the acknowledgement of her child. "I hope you don't mind the intrusion, but I've always loved Ghent, so couldn't refuse my brother's pleas to accompany him on his travels."

Jareth straightened to see an amused look cross Sarah's wondrous face, whilst Peggy lifted her head up off Sarah's shoulder.

"Peggy is not my daughter," Sarah laughed, softly. "She is my friend's child. As are all the children here."

Jareth felt his body sag with relief. If they weren't her children, it may mean she was less likely to be married. Though it was still a possibility. As King, he could annul any marriage as he saw fit, but knowing Sarah's sense of fairness, it was a road he didn't want to go down. Unless he had to.

"I see," he replied in clipped tones. "My brother and I hope you enjoy the peaches."

Sarah laughed, "Oh I don't like them myself, but the children love them so I thank you both kindly."

Jareth couldn't help but raise one brow. She didn't like peaches? Must be a recent development, he mused.

"Stephen," came another high pitched child's voice, as a child came hurtling out of the cottage door, followed by two adults with yet another child.

"Tessa," Stephen greeted the child, and then nodded to the boy with his parents. "Lewis."

"This is Liam and Helena Sprigget," Sarah introduced her friends. "Liam and Helena, this is Stephen and Terry. Stephen came to drop off the peach from the other day, but has brought a whole basket."

Jareth watched as Liam and Helena exchanged looks but took the basket of peaches from Sarah.

"Thank you, sir," Liam touched his light coloured brow with one finger in thanks to both brothers. "Peaches are a delicacy that we simply can not pass up. Come in and have a cup of tea."

Straight away the Ghentian's were proving their innate ability to welcome and include strangers. He hoped that it would never come around to punish the gentle souls in the future. He made a mental note to send a few more guards into the area just as a precaution against any unsavoury folks. Jareth was not going to say no to their hospitality though. To spend more time with Sarah while she didn't know who he was, certainly had its appeal. She was friendly and polite, and open. Things he suspected he wouldn't see if she was faced with Jareth and not Terry.

The temptation to whisk her off to safety was pulsing and seething through his very core, but something told him to wait it out. Get to know her first. Then she will come to him on her terms. Now he knew where she was, they could weave spells to keep her safe. He could track her through his crystals again as he knew her location, despite whatever magic had previously blocked her from him.

And to see her, interacting and living with the salt of the earth, his subjects, so naturally was beguiling. No fae, no lesser fae, no elf for that matter, would be seen dead in a human village, working the land like she was. Yet here she was, wearing an apron over her working dress, scruffy hardworking boots, a smudge of dirt across her forehead. Looking after children that were not hers. How she had changed and grown.

He grew impatient to find out more about her life here and discover how she came to be here in the first place. He couldn't believe he finally found her. Alive. And in his kingdom. And living with his subjects. Living AS one of his subjects. He marvelled and her ease in which she must have curried favour with them. Something she was always so capable of with his minions, much to his own ire and jealousy.

A little voice inside his head, warned him that his brother found her first. They already had an established connection and he was the intruder. He cast a sly glance at his brother as they headed inside. Sevlydi didn't seem particularly interested in Sarah aside from what was borne out of politeness. And she was friendly and polite back to him but could not detect any special attachment.

He couldn't take his eyes off Sarah after that. She moved around the kitchen helping prepare the tea, still with the child on her hip. Liam instructed him to sit so he pulled up a chair where he could still observe his wife. After introductions were made, Stephen explained to Liam and Helena how he bumped into Sarah at the market, and he had to then bring a single peach he owed after eating one from the basket, to prove it wasn't enchanted.

Jareth glanced up at Sarah who flushed as she passed Helena the cups of tea. Guilt lanced through him, but it was easy enough to ignore for now with joy and relief his main feelings coursing through his body. He would allow a chuckle at the thought of her verifying the peach wasn't enchanted, when he had finished processing the fact he had finally found Sarah.

"So Sarah," Stephen started as she joined them at the table. "How did you find yourself at Cloverfield Cottage then?"

Sarah didn't answer straight away. Jareth noticed her fidget slightly in her seat, her fingers tapping the handle of her teacup with agitation.

"Is it that obvious?" she muttered into her teacup.

"You don't sound like you're from around here but you're human, so unless you're from Aboveground..."

"I am," she replied swiftly and honestly. "I am from Aboveground."

"How did you get here?" Jareth asked in his impatience.

"I was kidnapped," she answered, matter of factly. Jareth felt rage course through his body.

"How...?" Was all he managed, as he tried to keep his politely interested mask on to keep his true feelings of vehemence hidden.

"Two fae cornered me in a bathroom while I was at a party," she recounted while Jareth paled, placing his teacup back in the saucer much harder than he intended to. The party where he had first seen her and she disappeared from. "I turned around, they grabbed me, I ended up outside the Labyrinth all by myself."

So many questions. Who were the two fae? Where did they go? Why couldn't he find her? How did she end up here? Why didn't she come to him? What did they want with her? Why was she outside his Labyrinth one minute and gone the next? While he was deciding which question to ask first, Sevlydi asked her what the fae looked like.

"Tall, blonde, one woman and one man, blood red robes," Sarah winced. "It was 2 years ago and I didn't get a good look at them. I have not seen them since that night. Like I said, I landed outside the Labyrinth completely alone."

Jareth bit the inside of his mouth. He could bet it was Meffod and Yarbro. His vexation rose within him like smoke up a chimney. And like a puff of wind, it was dissipated by the reality that she was here, in his Kingdom, alive and unharmed. He knew the Pinnburrs hadn't seen her in two years. They didn't know she was here. He couldn't let them find out until they were married and secure, which meant he could not exact his revenge upon them just yet.

"Did they say anything to you?" Sevlydi asked.

"No, nothing at all," Sarah shrugged.

"Why didn't you go and see the Goblin King when you arrived?" Jareth found himself asking.

"Good luck with that question, Terry," Helena grinned, her almond eyes laughing. "Our Sarah only just found out he has a brother. In two years she has avoided any mention of our dear King."

"Hush," Sarah pinched her friend affectionately on the arm, before she turned her beaming emerald orbs on him. Jareth was struck by her stare, so reminiscent of their final confrontation. "To answer your question, Terry, there is every possibility that the Goblin King hired those two thugs to kidnap me."

Helena made a 'see what I mean,' kind of noise in her throat. One of the children remarked on how they wanted to escort Sarah to the Goblin King's Castle, safely to ask for help. Another suggested they stop trying to get rid of Sarah as they enjoyed having her here.

The voices faded out of consciousness. Jareth was stung. His hands, still clenched, unclenched, just so he could clench them again. He of course had done no such thing. He did not hire thugs to kidnap her or had planned to or even had any need to if he had planned on kidnapping her. He would have done that himself. He wasn't even going to attempt to take her away from her new home now that he found her. Did she really think so little of him? He could almost taste the hostility and loathing on the way she said his title, it was so tangible a hate.

"He would help you, not kidnap you," Stephen came to his rescue. "The King is many things, but he would not demean himself thus."

Sarah raised a brow skeptically, but contented herself with a sip of her tea.

"We're happier that she stays here anyway," Helena chimed in again. "She is an endless help with the children and the chores."

"Do you want to go back?" Jareth asked, relaxing his hands slightly.

"We don't want her to go back," Liam supplied this time. "Lena is right, she is a grand wee lassie and the children enjoy her company too."

"I want to help my brother," she replied, when she finally got a say. "But even if I went back, I couldn't even see him. So really there is little point in me seeking the Goblin King's help."

"Why can't you see him?" Stephen asked.

"He lives with his maternal aunt," Sarah closed her eyes. Jareth could tell she was swallowing her pain. "And she hates me. She won't let me see him. I haven't seen him since my parent's funeral."

The rage that was coursing through his body flared up again. He had grown quite fond of Toby in his short time Underground. And more so when he realised Sarah was to be his wife. Jareth couldn't help but look at him like he was his brother in law. Part of him acknowledged that Sarah had fought so hard to get him back and now she was no better off. Though he didn't know what the aunt was like in relation to the Pinnsburrs. But by default, for kidnapping his wife, the aunt was a slightly better option.

He continued mulling it over as Sevlydi opened up the conversation to the rest of the household. He still didn't know how she was able to hide herself from him, but she wasn't likely to know that. For sure, the Pinnsburrs were not magical enough to have provided her any protection spells. If he didn't know any better he would have thought the blocking spell had been administered by a royal fae for it to be stronger than his scrying spells. But he conceded, he didn't know better. His wife didn't even trust him enough to be seen by him, let alone ask for his help. For the first time in his life he felt like he knew very little at all.

He took this opportunity to observe Sarah as she listened to Sevlydi prattle on about farming with Liam. She was just so hypnotising. He wasn't surprised he was drawn to her in the slightest. Aside from her obvious beauty, her face reflected so many emotions as she focused on his brother.

A lull in conversation allowed Sarah to remake the tea. One of the older children came and helped her willingly.

"Sarah, could you and Alicia perhaps make some hotcakes?" Helena suggested. "They will go well with the peach jam."

Sarah willingly obliged and set about making the batter with Alicia. Jareth was dismayed that she was being taken away from the conversation but it allowed him to watch as she chatted and laughed with the teenage girl. Seeing her so at ease contrasted with his own inner turmoil.

He felt rage against Sarah's kidnappers and Toby's aunt but strong consolation that Sarah was safe and happy and disbelief that she was really here. He'd never given up hope but he was astounded that just like that she was back in his life. He had questions galore to ask his brother and he had to think of a way to keep seeing Sarah. He got the opportunity quicker than he thought he would as Sarah re-entered the conversation.

"So are you here for a fleeting visit?" Sarah asked as she placed the plates of freshly cooked cakes on the table.

"Actually, three or four days," Jareth answered before Sevlydi had a remote chance of replying. "We're staying in the inn as we have business with someone in the village."

Sevlydi turned and glared at him, but Jareth turned and faced Sarah instead.

"Thank you, Sarah," he revelled in saying her name out loud as he helped himself to a cake. "I wonder if any of you would care to join us for a picnic down the River Novia tomorrow?"

He crossed every part of his body that Sarah would accept. He desperately wanted to get to know her, but more so for her to get to know him as a person, and not just the King. He had all but tasted her loathing of him as a King, but by contrast she was light and friendly towards "Terry."

In all his wild imaginings he never glimpsed this slice of unreserved openness from her. It was refreshing and addictive. He wanted more. He wanted to be the focus of her happiness, but he knew if she realised who he really was, she wouldn't be so free and comfortable around him.

He looked up into Sarah's glowing face and noticed a slight flush creep over it. He allowed a secret smile just for her to grace his lips, before he continued talking.

"We don't know many people in this village, and we'd like to repay you for your hospitality if any of you are interested," Jareth added. "I can't offer anymore peaches but I will...we will supply a tasty feast regardless."

Sevlydi clicked his tongue in annoyance but he didn't care. His brother went behind his back and hid the fact he had found his wife. He could make plans without taking him into consideration.

"I have to work the farm with Robby, our eldest boy, but Helena and Sarah could join you with the younger children if they'd like," Liam responded.

"Oh that sounds lovely, mama," Alicia chirped up. "We love the River and we could gather some reeds while we're there."

"How industrious of you," Helena beamed with pride. "I think it's a very good idea. I have chickens to catch and pluck tomorrow, so if Sarah would like to go, then she can take any child who wants to go and the rest can stay with me."

Jareth's heart beat faster. It was looking very hopeful. "Sarah, are you keen to join us?"

"Thank you, Terry," Sarah inclined her head to him. "Thank you, Stephen. I think I will have to say yes so I don't disappoint the children."

He didn't care that her answer was for the sake of the children. It was still a yes. He could see her again. They discussed an appropriate time to meet before they headed out of the house to take their leave. He could barely contain his excitement at the potential of seeing her again on the new day. He briefly wondered at himself and the intensity of his feelings, reminding himself that she was to be his wife only in name not deed.

He had to harden his heart. His heart wouldn't grow attached to her anymore than was necessary to secure her. He consoled himself that his feelings were purely relief that she was alive and nothing more. He tried to ignore the feelings her hostility had invoked in him. He would after all gain her trust as Terry and all would be forgiven. As they made their way through the garden gate, he weaved spells of protection for her and her friends.

He'd be damned if he lost her again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Usual Disclaimers apply. Inspiration for this story was found in the Song Tears of Pearls by Savage Garden (yes, I am inspired by a lot of their songs when it comes to J and S). So the next chapter is the picnic and I wonder how Jareth/Terry deals with Sevlydi/Stephen about the revelation that Sarah is alive, when they are alone together again?


	6. Chapter 5

CHAPTER FIVE

In the embrace of the fruit trees, a gentle breeze rifled through the canopy, jostling and swirling the apple blossom scent around where Sarah was lounging, recumbent on the soft, springy grass, next to a snoozing Peggy. Sarah discarded the book she was reading and inhaled the sweet, almost verging on cloying, fruity aroma deeply.

Today had been an interesting day to say the least. Actually seeing Stephen - the Peach Man - was a surprise to begin with but that he had brought along his brother, was unexpected. Sarah flushed at the memory of Terry looking at her with his intense brown eyes. There was something inexplicable about him that diverted her from her initial inquisitiveness in Stephen. She probably only imagined it but the way he asked if they wanted to join him on a picnic, felt like he was only asking her.

He was strikingly different from Stephen, despite being able to tell they were brothers straight away. Stephen had a rounder, fuller figure, more muscle than fat however. Terry had sharper lines; more defined, more lithe, less rugged but still obviously a man with strength. He was quieter, more serious, yet seemed to have a subtle cheekiness about him, less pronounced than his sibling. However, it was early days yet, and she doubted she would have much of an opportunity to study their characters in full. Their residence was on the other side of the Kingdom for starters.

The two years she had all but forgotten her ex husband, Mark, despite the lack of any romantic relationships she had formed in the Underground. In fact the itch, bordering on hunger that ran through Sarah flickered anew as Terry pierced her with his gaze, and was as close as she had got in all this time. The villagers were sweet. Friendly. Pleasant. But they weren't romantic. Or at least not romantically interested in her.

Sarah learnt quickly, she was seen as something quite exotic. People were friendly, but still intimidated by her. Sarah resented her place on the pedestal they had perched her upon. It didn't matter how welcoming they were, she was still an outsider. Friendships developed, but potential for any more than platonic, had eluded her. Not that she minded as developing a romantic interest would be tantamount to admitting she was not going home.

But Terry with his scruffy brown hair and afternoon shadow, looked at her differently than any of the villagers ever had. When he gave her that small little secret smile just for her, it made her stomach swoop and her lungs contract. He had glanced at her in a flirtatious manner that she hadn't experienced since she left the mortal realm. It was exciting, enticing, thrilling, but it was a little unnerving too.

Her marriage wasn't exactly confidence building when it came to trusting new people with her heart and emotions, and had put the nail in the coffin of any further notions of marriage. Not even with trusting them for a casual fling. Besides, one flirty look was too trifling an incident to escalate any further postulation on the subject. Her body must be desperate, and craving the male touch to manufacture so many assumptions based upon one coy and teasing inspection from the man, despite any rationality of her brain.

Sarah peered down at the sleeping child next to her, thanking the universe Mark had never got her with child whilst in their tumultuous relationship. A strain of regret weaved its way through her at the thought of never becoming a mother. Her life was too uncertain, too unstable right now and with her stance on marriage, she was also unlikely to enter the parenthood state. She had to content herself with her adopted family.

* * *

The march back to the village was in stony silence for both Jareth and Sevlydi. Jareth was running through the images of Sarah he had collected in their brief meeting, while ignoring his undercurrent of rage and frustration with her kidnappers, and to a lesser extent, his brother.

Sevlydi meanwhile was probably seething that he had to stay a few nights in the village without being consulted first. Jareth did not care. He had bigger grievances to air compared to Sev's paltry complaint.

"I was hoping to actually go and visit Rica," Sevlydi eventually said, grinding his teeth in his displeasure. Rica was Sevlydi's secret lover. Secret because Rica was a male. And while marriage between the same sex was allowable for the common folk, it wasn't for royals due to the need to produce an heir. Lovers were accepted generally but frowned upon if the Royal was unmarried and childless. After that, everyone looked the other way.

"I've spent two years looking for my missing wife. 15 more waiting until I could see her again," Jareth had tested his crystal at the earliest opportunity after leaving the cottage, and was relieved he could see Sarah inside them instead of murky nothingness. "You can afford 3 days separation."

"So why didn't you make yourself known and stake your claim?"

Jareth had known this question would arise. He had thought about the answer but wasn't sure he could really explain. That he wanted to get to know her and her to get to know him, seemed like a frail excuse outside his own mind. That he reveled in her looking at him without seeing the villain she knew, was a fragility that he could not abide even his brother knowing. Her words that spoke against him, still cut through him like a knife whetted against the very rocks of hell.

It didn't matter how many times he told himself he was only marrying her for marriage sake, since he'd seen her, his own desire had betrayed him and he knew it wasn't completely true. Her smiles, her eyes, her laugh, they all captured his imagination like never before. She had left an imprint on his being, that no amount of denial was going to remove. He wanted her.

But he knew in his heart of hearts that Sarah wouldn't see him as anything but the villain he portrayed, if he revealed himself this early. And to see that open and artless expression turn cold and hateful, like it almost did at the mere mention of his name, was something he just couldn't stomach.

"I want to see how she behaves when she doesn't know it's me," Jareth said, plainly. "To her I am merely the Goblin King, a King of great power and strength. I am more than the responsibilities I hold. I am curious to test her mettle when it is not her Villain she faces. I have to be married to her for eternity, may as well learn who it is I am really marrying."

"Don't you think you're better off being honest?"

"You just don't want to be stuck as Stephen the commoner for a few days, Sev."

"And you don't mind being Terry the commoner? For the sake of a girl?"

"My wife. One you chose not to tell me about."

"I did better than telling you, I showed you."

"How many days have you known?" Jareth tried to keep the anger from showing in his voice.

"I saw her at the Harvest Parade. At least I recognised her from your repeated descriptions over the years."

"That was nearly a week ago!" Jareth could not believe he could have known a whole week ago that his wife was alive and well. And that his brother, his true brother, someone he considered a friend, had not told him.

"Yes and then I went to find her to ensure it was her before I raised your hopes up. Once I established it was her, I weighed up the best course of action, surmising that kidnapping her would not be the best option. I thought going in disguise would allow you to approach her in your own time. I know how you work, Jare. I know you act on impulse sometimes. And this is a situation that required more caution and less arrogance."

"I would not have kidnapped her, Sev. Not like those Damn Pinsburrs. I will have their heads."

"They got her here didn't they? She isn't harmed."

"Sev, I could have got her here unharmed. And on her own terms. And more importantly, on my terms. There is still the question of why they did that, why they abandoned her outside my Labyrinth, how she was hidden from me and my magic. What's more, I wouldn't have lost two years."

"I honestly don't know why you even bothered. She wasn't exactly complimentary of you when your name was mentioned. She all but accused you of being her kidnapper. And when I saw her at the Harvest Parade, she was trying to stay out of your view. But I suppose having a wife that fears you, suits your purposes well."

Jareth found it hard to believe Sarah of all people would be scared of him. She was after all his Champion. His only Champion. Sarah was the only mortal he'd met that didn't tremble at the sight of him, especially at the final moment where he tried to tempt her to stay. Despite her concern for her brother, she didn't throw herself down and beg, like so many mortals before her. Each and every time he confronted her, she met and exceeded his expectations. Hiding her true feelings behind a mask of bravery, never letting her anger get the better of her. She showed her potential for being a Queen, by managing to override her strong emotions to get the job done. Even if that job was beating him and his game.

"What royal fae do you know, that marries for any reason other than to produce offspring? What better chance do I have than with a mortal to achieve that means?" Jareth tasted the lie on his own tongue like acid. "Our own father married twice for such means. Both wives nothing but obedient slaves to their master. Why should it be any different for me, than any other fae in history?"

"Forsythia is just like any wife you want to marry for the sake of marriage. I know your personal objections based on her puppet masters. But surely that would have been easier than all this?" Sevlydi gestured at their commoner appearances and attire, in mild disgust.

"We've been over this. The p..."

"Yes, the pearl. You know, no harm will come to you if you ignore it's prediction. Maybe the bride pearl was wrong."

Jareth didn't reply, just raised his fine brow and continued through the village towards the inn.

"Are you really certain this is the course you want to pursue?" Sevlydi asked, after getting no response from Jareth. "To deceive her for your own minimal gains?"

"Knowing someone beyond what they show you, isn't a minimal gain," Jareth whispered.

"It is in this game. Jareth you're marrying her anyway, why put up this charade? You know Nudalun and Omre will insist you marry Forsythia. They won't be happy you chose a mortal. So stop playing games and marry her before they marry you to the Pinsburr girl."

"No, Sev. I will marry Sarah and I will do it my way. Our dear brother and sister can jump off the Hastinji Bridge for all I care."

"Jareth, Omre and Nudalun hold our balls in their hands. You know that. As the two first-born children, with our mother not being..."

"Yes, now keep your voice down or you'll blow our cover," Jareth hissed. "I don't give a flying rat's arse about Omre and Nudalun and neither should you. They would marry you off to Forsythia or worse the moment they found out about Rica."

They had reached the inn by this stage, and more people milling around meant that their conversation had to cease.

Jareth stopped before the door of the inn. "I am going through with this. I don't need your approval but I do need your discretion, like you always have mine."

They entered together in silent accord, knowing that the brothers were bonded by more than just blood, but by secrets and though neither would admit it, also by love.

* * *

* * *

Only Peggy, Lewis, Alicia and Tessa chose to accompany Sarah on the picnic. Between them they packed some hard boiled eggs, cheese, ham and some cakes. Sarah didn't want to turn up empty handed despite the brothers' insistence the day before, that they were bringing a feast.

For some reason, Sarah had also put some effort into her appearance, choosing her favourite green dress, the 'Sunday Best' as Karen would have called it. Still plain and functional, but cleaner and less worn than her other outfits. She had brushed her hair and tied it into a simple up-do with a green ribbon weaved through it. She didn't quite understand why she cared to make a good impression but the thought of seeing Terry again had sent a shiver through her body.

The small group made their way to the Novia River. Tessa and Lewis were singing and Peggy kept insisting Sarah carry her. With reluctance, Sarah eventually shuffled around her baskets and perched Peggy on her hip, then joined in with the melody. Alicia meandered down the road apparently lost to her own daydreams.

It was an Underground song, but Sarah had learnt it within the two years she had lived down here. It wasn't in her native language but she enjoyed the melody. Helena had told her it was a song about the love between a princess and her servant. Lewis insisted it was a song about butterflies. Tessa, a song about dragons. Janey on the other hand said it was a love song from a King that lost his one true love and was calling out to her.

No one really knew because it was in the old language that none of them spoke. Sweet, quiet Janey was the most passionate about her personal belief on the meaning behind the song. She never said much, but Sarah had been swept away by her determination to represent her perspective. It was a household favourite, at any rate.

They had just started a second encore when they hit the grove of trees by the Novia River that was to be their meeting place. The river was enveloped on both sides by dense trees in every shade of green imaginable, providing ample shelter over the grassy glades scattered throughout the forest. It was a deep, fast flowing river but where they were situated now was a shallow, slower patch that was popular with bathers as well as the occasional fisherman.

They continued to sing as they lay their blankets and baskets down under a sprawling oak like tree, with a broad trunk and immense branches that dominated the vicinity. Sarah popped Peggy down on the blanket as they completed the last verse of the song.

"That's always a favourite of mine," a deep voice spoke from behind them. Sarah turned to see Terry and Stephen striding across the verdant lush grass to join them. It had been Terry that spoke. His brown eyes settled on Sarah's green ones, lit with a warmth Sarah found contagious. A faint flush crept up her cheeks at having been caught singing.

"Perhaps you could tell us your interpretation of its meaning," Sarah grinned. "At Cloverfield it is quite the bone of contention."

"You sing yet you do not know its meaning?" asked Terry, surprised. "Tell me what you think it means."

Sarah described everyone's perspectives, saving Janey's for last.

"I can tell you that one of you is mostly correct," Terry grinned back at her. "Which one is Janey?"

"She's not here," one of the children supplied. Sarah raised her eyebrows at his declaration that Janey had been right. She would be so satisfied to find out and her passion would be justified. She made a mental note to let her know.

"Ah, but she is the one who is the closest. It is a lament for a King's true love having left him and he seeks her return. It is bittersweet because she can not hear him from her world. And he can't know that she can't hear him so he still sings it until time has lost all meaning, and his heart has all but withered away. But he is steadfast and sings for her until he passes on to the next life."

"Well, that's depressing," Sarah mumbled, picking at her sleeve absent-mindedly.

"Indeed. Do you think his love would return if she had heard his song?"

Sarah's eyes shot up. She didn't think the song was depressing because his "love" didn't come back, but rather that he would waste his entire life in an obsession that was not reciprocated. Why else would she leave?

"It really depends on her reasons for leaving in the first place, and just because he loves her, it doesn't mean she owes him anything."

Sarah felt this was all too close to home. Not that the Goblin King truly loved her but she didn't owe him anything even if he did. She glanced at Stephen, when she heard him scoff and caught him rolling his eyes.

"Do you think that just because a man loves a woman, that she owes him, Stephen?" Sarah asked, sardonically.

"No, indeed," he grinned. "But my brother would not wish to hear a less than romantic interpretation of this song. I happen to agree with you. She doesn't have to love him back. She doesn't have to be grateful she was loved in such a way."

Terry narrowed his eyes at his impudent brother.

"The King spent his entire life devoted to a lady, and you two mock his pain."

"We don't know her perspective", Sarah countered. "Only his. We don't know why she left. We don't know if she loved him back, or could love him back. Just because he was a fool to not move on, doesn't make it her problem. Sounds more like obsession than love to me."

Stephen threw his head back with a roar of laughter.

"A woman that doesn't subscribe to the romantic notion of love. Wonders never cease."

"No wait, I never said that," Sarah shook her head, vehemently. She did not really want to point out that her view of love had been seriously tainted by her husband's behaviour. But she wasn't about to subscribe to the notion that someone pining for another, meant that love had to be returned. "I just think it's a one sided song, if this is the true meaning. If we knew how she felt or why she left, then it could change my mind."

"IF it's the true meaning?' Terry questioned. "Why would I lie about the true meaning?"

"Do you understand the language then?"

"I do," he ran his hand through his short bronze locks. "I could sing it for you in the common tongue, if you wish?"

"That would be nice. Maybe later.. I think the children might be hungry," Sarah indicated the children helping themselves to the picnic baskets. The thought of having the possibly significant if not contentious song re-imagined in a comprehensible language by a stranger, was too much to endure.

Sarah shuffled off to attend the children, admitting that she was a little bit flustered by Terry's intensity. He was certainly passionate about that song. Uncomfortably so. The Goblin King was thrown into the forefront of her mind as she had learnt of its true meaning. Though she reasoned the song was probably older than fifteen years and his final words to her weren't about his love for her, but rather desiring her to love him. One sided. Much like the song in question. He never offered her anything in return. Aside from being her slave. But slavery did not equal love. Besides, it was a delay tactic. That was all.

With these reassuring considerations in her head, she busied herself in setting up the picnic. Terry and Stephen joined with their own baskets.

Terry looked at the fare spread before him. "You didn't need to supply any food. We have enough here."

"Thank you, but we wanted to contribute," Sarah gave Terry a small but polite smile. "There are a lot of us to feed."

"Nonsense," a dismissal. "It was our turn to be generous, whether you numbered one or fifty."

Sarah flinched at the word generous.

_I have been generous till now, and I can be cruel._

However, she chose to ignore her inner turmoil as she continued spreading out plates on the picnic rug with Alicia's assistance. It was hard not to think of the Goblin King. A simple phrase could set her off. It was after all, a momentous time in her existence that influenced the course of her life and nearly every decision she made. One couldn't help but be shaped by something like the Labyrinth. It wasn't an ordinary experience at the end of the day.

Terry and Stephen joined them, Lewis zoning in on the latter to engage him in conversation on butterflies. Terry knelt on the edge of the rug, idly twirling an apple around in his hands, while Tessa sat mesmerised by the flowing motion of the ruby fruit.

"Sawah, can you sing twinkle twinkle?" Peggy crawled into her lap after some time had passed in quiet enjoyment of the repast. She looked up at her with big Brown eyes, her pudgy fist finding her rosy mouth, and popping her thumb in as she spoke. Sarah nodded and flushed slightly as she looked up from under her lashes to see Terry still watching her from his kneeling position on the rug. Having to sing in front of strangers was not particularly pleasing for her, but to do it in front of this bewildering man, made her recoil in embarrassment.

Sarah cleared her throat and wrapped her arms around the precious child, as she sang Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star.

"What are stars, Sawah?" Peggy fondled the hem of Sarah's dress with her free hand.

"Big balls of gas, millions of miles away," Short. Perfunctory.

"Mama says they're magic," Peggy pulled her thumb out with a wet popping sound, pointing up into the starless, daylight sky. "Are they magic?"

Sarah grabbed a bread roll and focused on filling it with salad and cheese. Nothing good ever came from magic. "There is an element of magic, I suppose. Many songs and poetry have been written about the stars. And music and poetry are forms of magic, I suppose."

Penny popped her thumb back in her mouth and glanced away to stare across to the river. The children chatted among themselves as they ate, while Sarah took deep calming breaths. The outside world intertwined with her soul in ways that she could not explain. Sarah found their picnic area to be quite soothing and often enjoyed their walks here with her new family. Today, however she couldn't meditate and enjoy it as she usually would with the children her sole responsibility and the two strangers in their midst. She was very conscious of their presence.

Terry had consumed his apple and was offering other dishes to the older children. They'd brought quite a selection of meats, cheeses, breads and pastries. Sarah was impressed with their fare. The children were in awe too, chatting and exclaiming over their finds on the plates and in the baskets.

"Have you seen any magic since coming back Underground, Sarah?" It was Stephen's time to ask a question.

"No." A lie. "I have not."

"Janey and Simon saw the King produce the butterfly dragon thing at the Harvest Parade," Tessa chirped up. "Remember?"

Sarah bit the inside of her cheek in frustration. "Of course."

"A mere parlour trick to entertain the children," Stephen smirked. "I can assure you our King Jareth is significantly more powerful than a few sparkly tricks for the children."

"Then perhaps my first answer still stands."

Both men wore guarded expressions but she couldn't help but wonder if there was something more to his question.

"Sarah, may I go and gather some reeds now? I've finished eating," Alicia gathered up her plate and napkin to shake off her crumbs.

"Yes just be safe and stay nearby. Call out if you need us."

The two younger children took this opportunity to climb the nearby trees, leaving Peggy, Sarah and the two men to finish the picnic. Sarah wracked her brain for a conversation topic as she picked at her pastry. Her conversations with the Spriggets usually involved the children or the farm, so she never had to think deeper than that. But she knew nothing of these two men except where they lived.

"So, Stephen, you mentioned you had sheep, I assume you live on a farm?"

"Er, yes. A sheep farm with a peach orchard."

"Both of you?"

"Yes we live together."

"And your parents?"

"Dead," Terry interrupted.

"I'm sorry to hear," Sarah said as Terry shrugged.

"We have each other," he explained. "Siblings are more crucial than parents in this world."

Sarah felt a pang at his words. Toby. Oh how she missed him.

"I have a brother," she offered. "I think I mentioned him yesterday. He means the world to me. I'd burn the world down to protect him, yet I can't help but know I have failed."

"His aunt..." Terry prompted.

"Some legal loophole. I was meant to get guardianship of him after my father and step mother died. But he was taken by his aunt and no matter how much money I threw at lawyers I couldn't get him back or even see him again. Sheer determination and the right aid had never failed me in the past, but sheer bloody mindedness was not enough in this case."

A look Sarah couldn't describe flitted across Terry's face. Sarah flushed. She hadn't spoken about Toby like this in so long. She sucked in a deep breath to keep her heartache at bay.

"Sarah, I am sure you did your very best," Terry said with such gentleness and sincerity she almost believed him. "He would not blame you."

"Toby would be 16 now," she continued. "I doubt he even remembers me."

"Sarah, I haven't been completely honest with you," both herself and Stephen turned in disbelief at Terry, for the complete segue as much as the confession. "I work at the castle beyond the Goblin City. If you want to see Toby again, we could talk to the G-"

"No," Sarah declined with a vigorous shake of her head. She shifted her focus to Peggy who had curled up on the rug and fallen asleep, before looking back at Terry. "I can't - he wouldn't - no, just no."

"I'm going to take a walk," Stephen announced and light as a feather he rose to his feet and moved off towards the river leaving Terry alone with her and the sleeping child. Sarah used the uncomfortable silence to glance towards the other three children. Lewis and Tessa still climbed the trees and Alicia was still gathering reeds by the river's edge. Terror was slowly creeping through every organ and nerve. He worked for the Goblin King? He only had to utter her name in passing and he'd find her. Panic shot through her, making her want to cry, vomit and hyperventilate at the same time.

"I did not mention before that I was employed at the castle, as I sensed your feelings on the subject, but I can tell you that he would want to help. At the very least he should know that someone attempted to kidnap one of his subjects."

"I wasn't one of his subjects at the time," Sarah mumbled through pants as she tried to regulate the ragged breathing brought on by her panic.

"You could tell him now," Terry suggested. "You may not have been his subject then, but you are now."

She should never have trusted two strangers. It was all over. The Goblin King would torture her once he found her. The world tilted under her feet, as her head spun. Her eyes would no longer focus on anything. She needed air. She needed to breathe. She pressed one hand to her stomach and the other to her forehead, trying to balance her emotions and her rising panic. Oh, Toby. How she longed to rescue him. How she missed him.

"Sarah are you quite well?"

"If I...die, I won't... be able to ...rescue Toby," her lungs heaved, sucking in air, glorious air.

"Sarah, why would you die?" Concern. Worry. Anguish.

"The... king...he'd kill...me...if he...finds me..."

"Sarah, I will not be telling the King of your presence here," he rushed to reassure. "Peace, please Sarah. I will not reveal your location, nor will Stephen."

He reached out with his gloved hands, placing it on her forearm. "Breathe, just breath. You are safe. He won't hurt you, and I won't tell him, if that is what you wish."

Sarah needed to breathe and return the children back to Cloverfield before she left to find somewhere else to hide. The thought of leaving her friends made her pulse speed up again and her heart clench, another tide of panic washing over her. She'd put her friends in danger.

"I've got to go," she sucked in oxygen with every word. "I have to-"

"Sarah," a stern warning. "You are safe. He will never know. You don't need to be afraid. Peace."

His hand tightened on her wrist. "I know I am a stranger, and you have little reason to trust me but I vow you are safe from the Goblin King. I may work for him but I will not betray you for his sake."

"You don't even know what I've done," she was growing gradually calmer as she focused on her inhaling and exhaling. Slow, deep breaths. Air was filling her lungs and her vision was returning, though the sense of dread did not diminish. "You don't know why he'd wish me harm."

"No, but it can't be that terrible," Terry ran his hand along her forearm. Comforting. Reassuring. Pacifying. "I have my surmises as to why you know of him despite being an Abovegrounder. The King has enemies aplenty, but not in the form of an Aboveground mortal human."

Sarah shook her head, thumbing the handle of the nearest basket with her free hand. The one not gripped by Terry's iron soft grasp.

"I am glad you're breathing again," a gentle squeeze of her wrist. "You have nothing to fear."

"Let me preface this by saying I have not done anything wrong," Sarah sighed, her voice still trembling. "I did what I had to and I did it fairly, but I can't have the Goblin King knowing I'm here. I can't even tell people why that is. For some reason, everyone trusts him and even respects him. And you! You work for him."

"So you can't trust anyone with the truth in case they, what? Rat you out? What do you fear?"

_His wrath. His rage. My own pride being on the line. Surrendering power. What don't I fear?_

"It's complicated. The one and only time I saw him, I am pretty sure I made him hate me. But trust me, I'm not a threat or a risk to him or to his people. I just don't think he'd appreciate me being here. But I fear for my brother. I can't protect him and I-"

Sarah glanced into Terry's dark unreadable eyes, a flash of warmth and understanding seemed to flicker in those unnerving eyes, but disappeared before she had a chance to interpret it.

"I'm not quite sure what he'd do if he saw me," she continued. "He may kill me. Imprison me. Ignore me completely. He may not even remember me. The fear of the unknown is greater than my fear of him, but yet it's better off not knowing."

"I have only known you briefly, but if the King has met you, I can guarantee he would never forget you."

"That is but a small comfort," Sarah reclaimed her arm from Terry's grasp. "But I am sure you meant it with kindness."

"Indeed, it was absolutely kindly meant," Terry reached down and picked up a wildflower from the long grass beside him. "Our King Jareth is not the monster you think he is, but he will never hear of your presence here from me or Stephen. Please be assured of my - our discretion."

"I am grateful," she conceded. "It concerns me though, that a man in his employ has questionable loyalties to his King."

"Indeed I do not," he twirled the flower's stem between finger and thumb. "But I also can perceive your honesty and your sense of fairness, but more so, I am but a lowly gardener. My interactions with the King wouldn't inspire confidences with him. I have conversed with you more than I have him."

A lowly gardener - her thoughts sprung to Hoggle. Hoggle! Perhaps this man knows Hoggle or her other friends. She shouldn't ask. She couldn't ask. She wouldn't -

"Do you know Hoggle?"

"Hoggle the dwarf?"

A cautious nod.

"Yes, I know him," a flat unreadable expression, married with an equally flat unreadable tone.

"Is - is he ok? How is he?"

"He does well," perfunctory. "Sarah, am I to believe you know Hoggle? Have you been in the Labyrinth?"

Peggy stirred next to Sarah causing both adults to look down at her. Sarah used this time to check on the other children. A quick glance ascertained all three remained in sight and safe. Peggy pulled herself languidly into her lap.

"Sawah, I dreamt about you," Peggy said through a yawn.

"What did you dream, my darling?" Sarah found herself grateful for the interruption of the child before she revealed too much to this stranger, intriguing and beguiling but still a stranger.

"Sawah danced in the stars with a princess and a prince."

"What kind of dance, my little one?"

"A pretty one."

"Shall you show me?" Sarah raised both herself and Peggy to their feet. Just in time as a pinecone landed just where they had been sitting. Lewis stood there with a grin on his face as he then scampered off behind the tree Tessa was still climbing in.

Lewis, of all the Spriggets had been the one who occasionally would invoke the feelings she had when she wished Toby away. He had a tendency to cause disruption to the harmony of Cloverfield Cottage. She was pretty sure he had been the one responsible for letting the pigs into the garden. He was always the argumentative one too. Tessa, like her father, was a natural peacekeeper and had taken Lewis under her motherly wing. She called for him now, and he took off towards her, a snicker left in his wake.

Despite two years of living with children, it was something that Sarah still didn't have a natural inclination for. Penny, though, was naturally drawn to her as she grew up from infancy to toddlerhood always having Sarah in their home. If truth be told Penny gave her a sense of belonging and purpose in her new life that no other member of the Spriggets could offer. As kind and welcoming as they were, she was always going to feel like an outsider.

"Children are such spirited creatures, are they not, Sarah?" Terry picked up the offending pine cone and placed it on top of one of the baskets.

"Compared to children Aboveground, these children are unnaturally well-behaved and peaceful. Lewis is just a wee bit cheeky. They would be considered exemplary back home."

"Have you much experience with children?" Terry asked as Sarah started their dance with the toddler as depicted by the dreams of Penny.

"Not really," Sarah held Penny's hands, letting her lead in their waltz-like movement. The dance was distracting her from her feelings of doom. "I have none of my own, but I looked after Toby since he was born until I moved out of home. You?"

"The children that pass through the labyrinth," he stated briefly. "You mentioned the Aboveground in the context of home - do you not consider this home now? If you don't talk to the King, you won't find a way back."

Penny pulled the dance to a halt and moved towards her siblings without a word, leaving Sarah standing alone, the grass swishing against her ankles as she pondered her answer.

"For better or for worse these people are my family now. There are things I miss. I miss modern conveniences, music, movies, books - but most of all it's Toby. Home is the people you're with, not the things or the dwelling. A little bit of my home will always remain Aboveground while Toby is there. If there was an easy way to get to him, I wouldn't hesitate to march right up to the King and demand he send me home.

"If I had children or I was still married to my husband, perhaps I would sacrifice myself to try and get home, if everyone is so certain he wouldn't do me harm despite not knowing our history. None of those are the case. No children. No parents. My husband and I are separated. And I can't reach Toby, so what good does going to the Goblin King achieve?"

Sarah finished her monologue well aware of Stephen making his way back to their spot. Terry noticed it too, as he flicked his eyes from his brother back to Sarah, drawing his mouth into a thin line.

"Peace," Terry implored. "I will not question you again about the Goblin King. I do not wish to see you upset. I only ask, because down here in the Underground, especially human settlements like Ghent, a sense of belonging is paramount. Our human ancestors could not go home, and any current wished-aways are now the Stolen Pearls of the fae, who may never find their home, here or back Above. We can't do much for them but we can try for those within our power. I assume you have heard of Stolen Pearls?"

"Yes, the unwanted babies adopted out to fae, who are not equal to the task of raising human babies with anything resembling love."

"Correct. Mostly correct."

"See, and your King is responsible for those Stolen Pearls being unloved and -"

"Are we still discussing the Goblin King?" Stephen cut in with a bored voice. "Sarah, I agree. He is arrogant and smarmy and incredibly difficult to deal with but not worth all of your concern, my dear child. My dear brother here, may worship the ground he walks on, but you should desist dwelling on your history and continue on with your life."

'And his pants are too tight,' she tacked on inside her own thoughts. Now was not the time to address that particular line of thinking however.

Sarah found herself gawping, but hurriedly turned away when both sets of brown eyes stared at her. In her head ran a thousand different thoughts, none of which she could voice, especially about the tightness of his Royal pants. Stephen had defended the Goblin King only yesterday. But here he was, the only person to have any negative remarks about him, freely expressing a similar viewpoint to her own. It was both refreshing and unnerving.

"Stephen," Terry turned to his sibling with deliberate slowness, as Sarah moved back to the picnic blanket, busying herself with packing up. "There is no need to be quite so rude."

"What? To Sarah or to the Goblin King?" Stephen sneered. "Do you think he will hear me? Oh great and wondrous Goblin King. Come hither and smite me down for taking your name in vain, you great big pompous prancing overgrown fairy."

On two occasions today, Sarah had found herself agreeing with Stephen, the first time when they struck an accord over the song she had been singing and now at the very apt description of the Goblin King. However, despite her disagreements with Terry, she much preferred his company after so short an acquaintance. Stephen, while friendly, looked at her with indifference after their initial meeting. Terry looked at her with growing interest. Things weren't always what they seemed though, and Terry may turn out to be the villain of the piece after all. She had read enough romance novels to know the deal.

Not that she was romanticising their encounter. Both men provoked responses out of her but she wasn't going to dissect them any time in the immediate future. She settled on distrusting both of them.

"That's enough, Stephen," his brother's name was laced with venom. "Remember there are children present."

"The children could afford to have a little honesty in their lives," Stephen countered. "Though I suppose you soak up their hero worship of your King, as if it were you they revered."

The picnic was packed up with more haste, as Sarah meant to make her way back to their abode. Terry seemed to notice for the first time as he came to assist.

"Apologies for my brother," he said softly as he scraped food off plates into a tin bucket alongside her. "He usually doesn't speak so ill of King. I am not sure what has got into him."

"Why don't you ask him?" Sarah suggested as she observed Stephen out of the corner of her eye, pace rapidly a few yards away, hands on his slim hips, muttering to himself. "He seems agitated. Maybe something set him off."

Terry stopped what he was doing to study her face. "Are you not perturbed by our behaviour?"

Sarah shook her head. "Fighting is something I grew up with. My parents would have fantastic screaming matches. Mostly my mother screaming and my father submitting. My husband and I repeated a similar pattern in our own time too. Communication and empathy is the key to healthy relationships apparently. Advice I never took despite all the marriage counseling."

Terry nodded. "It's very unlike my brother. I assure you he thinks well of the king, despite his contrary words right now."

"I must confess it was refreshing," Sarah gave him a cheeky smile. "Two years and it's the only dissension I have been privy to."

"I assure you there will be others," Terry resumed scraping the plates. "Your friend Hoggle for one."

The smile slid off Sarah's face at the mention of her friend's name. He flinched as she glanced at him before resuming her task. She was telling him too much too fast. Two years of limited society stifles one's conversational skills, but makes one over eager when the opportunity presents itself. How she missed her friend Hilary. Until now, no-one had any real regard for her personally, beyond face value, yet here was this stranger probing and prodding her, and Sarah had relished the opportunity, until panic had set in.

"I shall go speak to my brother."

Terry rose as elegantly as his brother did earlier, and sauntered over to him. Sarah called Tessa to fetch Alicia and she resumed her task of clearing up the picnic. After all the turbulence caused today, it was definitely time to head home.

Confusing feelings drenched Sarah, from her leaden stomach to her fluttering heart, she was consumed with dread, guilt, remorse, confusion, panic and self-loathing. If she had never wished away Toby, she wouldn't be stuck Underground having very difficult conversations with two perfect strangers, that she ought not to trust.

In her solitude she ran their conversations over in her head. Going over every nuanced statement, every contrary expression, and every iota of body language, but the same conclusion was reached at every angle. She got lucky with the strangers who took her in, but her fortune wouldn't hold a second time. Especially with a Goblin King employee. One who hadn't been honest with her. No matter how intriguing she found him, or attractive for that matter, she couldn't trust him.

Her gut was warning her of danger. She had come perilously close to a nervous breakdown earlier. And Terry was far too pushy about the Goblin King, despite his reassurances that she was safe, he did keep steering the conversation in that direction. Maybe she should just admit she defeated the Labyrinth and then at least she was being honest and he would see why she didn't want to broach the subject anymore.

Or she could just go home and not see him again.

She decided on the latter. Rolling up the picnic blanket was the last thing to do before she had to round up the children. Alicia and Tessa returned, arms full of reeds, so as a team they rolled all the reeds in the blanket, and Alicia agreed to carry them back to the cottage.

While they worked, she kept a watchful eye over the two brothers. They seemed to be bickering from the hand gestures and the way they leaned into each other. Sarah wondered briefly if her and Toby would have fought like cats and dogs as they got older. She'd hoped they would have had a stable relationship at the very least.

Having left the siblings baskets packed under the tree, there was little more to do than leave. So the girls traipsed back through the trees to wrangle Peggy and Lewis on their way towards the road. They hadn't got very far, and indeed hadn't even made it as far as the children when she heard her name being called.

"We're off now," stating the obvious. "The children and I have chores to attend to."

"Understandable," Terry caught up to them, with Stephen lurking behind. "A farm doesn't run itself. But here, take this food. We don't need it and I'd hate to see it go to waste."

Terry proffered the baskets and Sarah warily eyed them, before accepting them reluctantly, and passing them to Tessa to carry. "My family would be most grateful, thank you."

"Perhaps I could come and collect the empty baskets off you tomorrow?"

"I don't see that being a problem."

Liar.

But they were his baskets and there was far too much food to transfer it all into her two baskets. She would just make sure she was far away from the house all day tomorrow so she could avoid any more awkwardness.

Though part of her was curious to see him again. A small part. A small but persistent part of her.

"It was lovely to see you all again," Stephen waved from the background. "Gods protect the King."

He flicked his eyes to hers, and if eyes could smirk, his would be the King of all smirks. The children repeated the sentiment in response, out of habit followed by some polite farewells. Sarah nodded in acknowledgement, and left with the children for the cottage, hoping that she remained safe. That Terry remained as discreet as possible. That Stephen also remained as secretive. Exhaustion washed over her like a tidal wave against a cliffside. Further thinking about her dilemma would have to wait until she had a rested mind.

* * *

* * *

Jareth watched Sarah leave, after a brief interruption when she had to dump her baskets to chase the boy through the trees as he took off. But then she was gone. The promise of seeing her tomorrow, the only thing stopping him from taking after her.

He cursed himself for his carelessness. He pushed her too hard, too quickly when it came to the Goblin King. She had all but panicked. Sev was angry at him also. They had fought in muted voices about his deception and dishonesty. Sevlydi wanted to return to Rica, reluctant to get tangled in any more webs of deceit that Jareth was weaving. It was all for nothing, a mere human mortal wasn't worth all this illusion and fabrication. Jareth disagreed.

Seeing Sarah trying hard to keep a reign on her panic, had opened his eyes even further to her loathing and fear of him. Him, or the unknown as she claimed. Either way, to reveal himself now would be the death knell in their budding relationship. He couldn't fool himself that she trusted Terry, but he did detect a certain partiality.

He felt both anger and admiration for the girl, thrust alone into an unknown world, leaving behind all she knew was no easy feat. He accepted this. But he knew her as headstrong, determined, and not one to shirk down the task of facing the Goblin King. Sev had argued that she had strength in the form of protecting those she loved from harm. Much like he did every day for Rica. Perhaps there was strength in hiding from your demons instead of challenging them. But Jareth did not see it.

He had expected a Storm-The-Castle kind of Sarah, instead of a Hide-Out-in-the-Countryside Sarah that he was presented with. Sevlydi implored him to see it from her perspective. She had lost all her family, and she had been kidnapped by fae, challenged by a fae King and she did not really have any reason to trust a fae. Jareth knew he would never hurt Sarah, but she had lived the experience to contradict anything he would have her believe. She thought he was responsible for giving the Stolen Pearls to the fae, for one thing. On that he could at least defend himself. It was not like he chose to do that task. Or enjoyed it.

A small part of him might have felt guilty for his part in her mistrust, if he had ever toyed with such a notion before. He may even have felt some remorse for deceiving her as he did now by pretending to be a mere human man, if he ever owned such a feeling. But more dominant, selfish feelings were his authority. She was his wife. He had a right to go about the wooing process as he chose. He was after all a King and Sevlydi nor Sarah had any right to question his methods. He would not betray her to the Goblin King as he promised. He would gain her trust, and then when he did reveal his true identity, she would be in his possession so deeply she wouldn't want to leave.

She would want to be ruled by him. She would want to love him. He was determined.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to anyone who had read, reviewed or sent their kudos!! I can't tell you how much I appreciate it :)


	7. Chapter Six

CHAPTER SIX

Sarah had volunteered to assist Liam with the cows today. Liam was surprised but delighted to have extra company in the fields alongside Robby.

That had been the plan until Sarah made the mistake of mentioning to Helena that Terry was coming to pick up the baskets at some point today, and then Helena flustered and blustered about it being imperative she stay around the cottage. She assured her that it had nothing to do with Terry, but everything to do with it being laundry day.

Sarah was skeptical and wondered what Helena would achieve out of Sarah meeting Terry again. She even went as far as to ask her. The response being some mumbled gibberish about sensing a change in weather patterns, and the sheets needing to dry fast.

So now Sarah was assisting with the laundry, washing the sheets, rinsing the sheets and then hanging them out. Of course half her attention was consistently being drawn to the road for a sighting of the man himself. The other half was longing for her modern expensive washing machine.

It was around noon when the last of the sheets were being hung out, and Sarah was covered in sweat and her hands red raw, when he approached their residence.

He greeted Sarah warmly, as she chucked a bucket of water from the laundry over the vegetable patch. She dried her hands on her apron as she greeted him in return.

"I will just fetch your baskets," Sarah mopped her brow with her handkerchief and scuttled off inside, still clasping the laundry bucket firmly in her grip. .

She had spent the night sleepless and deep in thought about the mysterious man currently waiting in the garden. She couldn't make head nor tail of him or her own incredibly complex feelings. Avoidance had been her master plan, yet here she was about to pass him the baskets he had come to claim.

Helena was peeling potatoes at the table as she headed inside. Sarah dumped the bucket on the hardwood floor, and hung her apron up by the door, replacing it with an old rough shawl.

"Terry's here for the baskets," Sarah informed her, aiming to keep her voice neutral but the slight waver as she said his name felt glaringly obvious to her. Helena indicated with a lackadaisical wave of her hand towards the baskets that were located next to the rug full of reeds gathered the day before. They would be used for reworking furniture or parts of the cottage thatch roof if necessary, and Sarah also hoped to learn how to use them for basketry. Sarah grabbed the baskets and turned around to face Terry who was standing in the doorway and not where she left him outside.

"Oh," she exclaimed.

"Apologies," he nodded towards Helena in greeting, before turning his attention back to her, with eyes that glinted with an unknown light source. "I was just thinking, Sarah, if you're not already busy, that you could join me in a walk up the hill. It is such a nice day out and I believe the view from the top is quite stunning."

Sarah wanted to scream her unwillingness, but an irrepressible part of her was curious to go with him. She felt herself equally drawn to this stranger as she was repelled. Repelled by the knowledge of how much power he could have over her, with only one slip of the tongue in front of his employer, but the reasons she was attracted to him was less definite and certainly not as describable or palpable. She knew she would be needed on the farm, so a ready made excuse was ready on the tip of her tongue.

"What a lovely idea," Helena piped up. "I don't believe in all your time here you've ever made it to the top. Your friend here is correct. The view is spectacular. You've been working hard so you deserve a break. Why don't you go?"

Sarah clenched her jaw as each one of her refusals died in her throat. The truth was she had always been curious about the walk to the top of the hill. She only really left the house to go to the market or the river. There weren't enough hours in the day to go for a jolly up the hill.

"I promise you the view will be worth it," Terry smiled from the doorway, much like a cat with the cream.

_Worth putting herself in the path of a man she barely knew, hardly trusted?_

A few minutes later, against her better judgement, she found herself climbing up the hill with Terry at her side. In silence. The only sounds were the birds chirping in the hedgerows, a breeze rustling through the cornfields and the odd bawl from the cattle. If she ever forgot she was Underground she could mistake it for the English Countryside.

"Ghent reminds me of England," Sarah found herself saying out loud.

"Indeed?"

"I could almost forget that I'm far from home," not that she was English but she'd been there once when she had tried to spend some time with her mother, Linda. All she had succeeded in doing was seeing her twice. She made the most of it, however as she explored independently around the UK.

"Ghent is quite secluded in that way. Most of these people are the descendants of Abovegrounders. They established their town based on what they knew from whence they came. Mostly European inspired. However if you went to some of the other Villages in the Goblin Kingdom, you would see all manner of different creatures, and you'd know you were in the Underground."

"I never knew there was so much more to the Goblin Kingdom than the Labyrinth."

Sarah realised she had given herself away again, first with Hoggle and now this. But Terry either didn't notice or didn't care to press her about it this time.

"The Labyrinth has its function but the Kingdom itself is more than just the maze and the goblins," Terry explained. "A lot of other creatures from other lands and realms seek sanctuary here and as long as they don't pose a threat, they are granted safe haven. Your friend Hoggle is one of those who are under the King's protection."

"That sounds -" Sarah furrowed her brow. "Benevolent? I mean, what are they seeking refuge from?"

"Tyrants, war, famine, disease and sometimes just personal reasons."

"I see."

They lapsed back onto silence, less awkward than it had been before.

"Sarah, I would like to apologise to you," Terry slowed down and took her elbow to guide her to a stop. "For my brother and for myself. I'm sure we did not make a very good impression on you. And I apologise for not telling you earlier that I was the Goblin King's employee."

They made shifty eye contact before glancing away. Sarah didn't know how to answer immediately.

"It was never my intention to deceive you, and I realise how uncomfortable I made you, but I hope regardless of my omission, you feel secure enough with my confidentiality," he continued, almost beseechingly.

Sarah bit her lip, still uncertain of how she could respond. She shuffled her feet across the pebbles that were sprinkled all over the road, like a socially awkward teenager talking to a boy for the first time.

"I have to admit, where I'm from, we don't trust strangers at all. As a woman, I'd only ever meet a man in a public place, never going to a second location. So for me to be here, right now, alone with a stranger, it's beyond madness. And the fact you hid vital information from me - I must be certifiable to even still be in this village."

"Words mean something here, Sarah and when I say you're safe, you're safe. When I say I won't tell the Goblin King about you being here, then I won't tell the Goblin King."

Sarah maintained eye contact this time. She couldn't detect any sign of trickery or falsehood in his words or his eyes. She stared away into the middle distance as she mulled his words over.

"What's said is said," Sarah muttered to herself more than anything, recalling the Goblin King's words all those years ago when she implored him that she didn't mean to wish her brother away.

"Exactly, I couldn't have said it better myself."

"I don't know why, but I feel like you're telling me the truth," Sarah shrugged. "I am usually smart enough not to trust someone who has already lied to me."

"Lied by omission, but please let me explain," he paced side to side as he took a deep breath. "I was saying before that the Goblin Kingdom is a haven for those trying to find refuge, and I think you're no different than the others who seek asylum. It is unusual for someone not to gain the King's judgement when entering the land as a refugee, and it is a risk for you not to do so but I think there may be a very particular reason you have been kept safe from any repercussions on this count.

"I didn't tell you I worked at the castle when I first met you, because I didn't want to reveal who you really are in front of your friends. Sarah, have you run the Labyrinth?"

"What?" a knot tightened in her stomach as she listened to Terry explain his secrecy.

"Well you know Hoggle, you claim to have met the King, you're familiar with the Labyrinth. You haven't been discovered by any of the King's guards or spies as someone living here without Royal Permission. All signs point to you having been a runner."

"I..." Sarah backed up, her hands clenched and unclenched as she did her best stunned mullet impression.

"Sarah, stories have been spread across the land about the Champion of the Labyrinth," he continued. "Not all truthful or factual. I may have not witnessed your defeat of the Labyrinth, but I certainly can sense it from you. You're the one - the only one who has beaten the Labyrinth, and this offers you certain protection, and indemnity from seeking his permission to be a refugee. As the only one who didn't lose their baby to the fae and the Defeater of the Goblin King, it makes you an honorary citizen. However, your defeat of him - that's why you're so scared of him. It is the only conclusion that makes any sense."

"This just keeps getting more and more fucked up," Sarah blurted as she hastened a few more steps in retreat, her back colliding with the fence.

"Sarah, I understand why you hide from the King," he bit his lip and looked at her through those emblazoned brown eyes as if he could see her very soul. "I have suspected for a while, I just didn't want to reveal your past to everyone. For if you wanted them to know, you would have told them yourself."

"Yes," Sarah stuck her chin out with defiance, remembering herself. She was no wilting flower. "And what do you plan on doing with this information?"

"Absolutely diddly squat. I hope that we could be friends, Sarah. I don't plan on making an enemy of you, or putting you at risk of discovery by your kidnappers, or anyone that may be connected with them."

"Then you understand why I don't want to be discovered, by my kidnappers or the King. I don't know the King well enough to know if he seeks revenge or will try to get to Tob- my brother. Or even risk my friends here. I don't want to sound arrogant, about my achievement or my infamy. I just wanted to get my brother back."

"I understand, though nothing I say will probably convince you that none of that is a possibility. Our King is more intelligent than to be vindictive, besides your brother will be protected from all fae. He will have the Labyrinth's protection, more so than yourself. That is my understanding anyway. No one can hurt him, Sarah. He is safe."

Sarah nodded hesitantly. "And who is to say he even remembers me? I may just be over inflating my self worth after all. But better to be safe than sorry. I made a mistake wishing my brother away. I've paid for it all my life."

They started walking back up the hill, the tension seemed to have left them both.

"How have you paid for it, Sarah?" Terry asked after they had resumed their walk.

"Guilt," Sarah confessed. "It ate me up inside. It still does. I wouldn't be here trapped Underground if I hadn't been so foolish. My parents may still have been alive. I wouldn't have married my ex. So many life choices I made through guilt."

"Your parents? How is that connected?"

"They died in a house fire," Sarah inhaled deeply to stem the pain. "But eye witness reports say that a person was seen fleeing from the scene, that literally just disappeared into thin air. I firmly believe it was a fae."

"You believe it was a particular fae?"

"My one brush with magic, I encountered a smell. This aroma I have never ever experienced before until I ran the Labyrinth. But when I went to the site of the fire, I could smell it. I could smell the magic. That fire wasn't an accident. What other fae have I ever got myself entangled with would have reasons to murder my family?"

Terry stopped walking again. His eyes flashing dangerously. "Sarah, I can assure you there are many dangerous fae out there that would do such a cruel thing, but not the Goblin King."

"So quick to jump to his rescue," Sarah snapped. "But what better revenge than to take my entire family from me and then leave me stranded here?"

"Indeed," Terry growled, before he seemed to collect himself. "I understand your encounter with the King was fraught as that is the usual relationship between monarch and runner, but he is not capable of this - this calamity. I am so sorry Sarah for your losses. We will get to the bottom of this somehow. I suspect the two fae you met would have something to do with it."

"That's the thing though. Who are they and what the hell have I done to them?"

"You say you know about Stolen Pearls? The fae couple who were ready to adopt your brother weren't exactly happy when you - when you won. They swore their revenge. Your brother would have been protected by the King and the Labyrinth against any repercussions. However you and your family would not have received the same level of protection, unfortunately, some but not the same. I am so sorry Sarah. Fae can be the most cruel race sometimes."

"See, it is all MY fault. If I hadn't have been a spoilt, selfish idiot and wished my brother away, this would never have happened."

Sarah sat down in the dirt and openly wept, heedless of Terry's presence. Years of guilt and self blame found an opening and went for it, leaking her regret, her culpability, her grief down her cheeks into the dust.

Terry sat down, cross legged at her feet. "Magic always has consequences, it is so unfortunate that for you it was so catastrophic."

"Yeah, even if it wasn't the Goblin King's doing, it certainly gives him reason to gloat," Sarah cried bitterly. "His revenge is complete without even getting his hands dirty. My life has had everything of value stripped away from it. The only thing I have is myself, and my hope that I may one day see my brother again."

"Sarah, I didn't know - "

"Of course you didn't. You only met me two days ago."

"And yet, I feel like I have known you forever," he said in hushed tones, almost aeolian in nature.

Sarah wiped away her tears with the back of her hands. "My tears won't bring them back, nor change the past and my very bad decision, shall we continue our walk?"

Without waiting for a response, she marched on up the hill, heedless of whether Terry followed her or not. Her pent up grief still ravaged her body but she would not allow it to make her appear weak. She used it to power her muscles up the steep slope instead. Her eyes no longer took in her surroundings, her senses immune to further input. All she fixated on was putting one foot in front of the other and maintaining stable respiration.

In this mode she made it to the top of the hill and her senses came back in a flurry. The view from the top of the hill was as astounding as everyone said.

She was looking down on the Labyrinth, it's vast expanse stretching as far as the eye could see. The castle beyond the Goblin City sat amidst the twists and turns of the maze, glistening in the afternoon sun, looking from this distance, very much like a crystal formation rising up from rock.

Her breath caught at the magnificence below her. She felt like a God looking down on her world. It was more beautiful than she ever remembered it. Since her arrival here, she only saw the outside wall and never anything more.

She forgot about everything in that instance; her pain, her grief, her loneliness. Her eyes were drawn to the towers of the castle, wondering if her nemesis was safely ensconced in its turrets. She shortly chastised herself for even thinking for him. She instead considered how the Labyrinth melted into the mountains, how the lush green forests lapped at the edges here and there, making the whole sight a picture perfect painting.

"Are you disappointed in the view?" Terry had caught up to her and now stood by her side on the crest of the hill.

"Not at all," she inhaled deeply as she surveyed the realm. "Quite the contrary, I assure you. It is worthy of poetry or song, but alas I am lacking in both."

_Of all this I could have been Queen,_ she thought and then laughed. _He had been trying to trick you not wed you._

Apparently she had laughed out loud.

"Is something amusing?" Terry asked cautiously.

"Oh, just I have been here two years and this is the first time I've seen the labyrinth," she lied. It was a true statement but not the reason she was laughing. She self consciously smoothed her hands down her stained brown work dress before wrapping her arms around her own shoulders, pulling the shawl tighter.

"It must be a pretty remarkable place to work," Sarah continued. "As long as you don't work anywhere near the Bog of Eternal Stench or have the cleaners sent after you."

_Or end up in a peach induced ballroom dream._

"I work in the Royal gardens," he admitted. "I rarely go to the Labyrinth."

"What are the gardens like?"

"Colourful, fragrant, incredibly well tended," Terry said with a grin. "Even if I do say so myself. They are not part of the Labyrinth but the castle grounds."

"I never saw gardens as such. Only the castle and that place was a god awful mess."

"Well trust me, the gardens are exquisite," his face tightened into a guarded expression.

"How long have you been working as a gardener?"

"Ah, many years," he shrugged. "We needed more money after our parents died. Stephen runs the farm, and I tend to the castle gardens. We played to our strengths."

"And neither of you married?"

"No," Terry glanced her way with a subdued look. "But you have?"

"Yes, though not successfully," Sarah moved to sit on a nearby rock so she could still survey the view.

"I am sorry to hear that," he sounded genuine as he made to sit down on the earth next to a small pond nestled into a dip at the summit, enclosed with thick foliage and shrubberies. "What made it so unsuccessful?"

It was a rather personal question to be sure. Sarah considered not answering it, but here sat the only man who knew who she really was. The only man with any power over her. It was better to keep her friends close, and enemies closer. It wouldn't do to upset him or scorn him, in case he used his power to be her downfall. On the other hand, telling him anything personal was like handing him a weapon, which on reflection she had done tenfold already in their short acquaintance.

"Mark was - ," _Mark was many things. How to explain how things went so wrong?_ "I met Mark when he was an engineering student and I was pretty established in my career. He filled a hole in my life at that point. He needed me and I enjoyed the power that it gave me, I guess. But he continued to climb his ladder, and my career and ambitions became a bit stagnant. The power dynamic shifted and he needed me less, and I didn't enjoy being more dependent upon him, then he was me."

Terry shifted his booted feet across the patch of shingle they were resting against, bringing her out of her memories. Glancing down at him, she saw his eyes focused on her face and his body angled towards her, showing his genuine interest. Her heart fluttered at his reciprocity. He indicated that she should continue with a slight hand gesture.

She sighed. None of this was easy to talk about, knowing how much she was to blame for her disaster of a marriage, and how raw and vulnerable she felt after their walk up here, not to mention the handing-your-enemy-a-weapon aspect previously considered. "I resented his success while I peaked early and I started withdrawing my affections. I felt my pride had been hurt by his success and rationally I knew that as partners we should be supportive of each other, rather than resentful. But the more he achieved, the more arrogant he'd become, the more I pushed him away."

Terry pulled his arm from dangling into the pond, to rest his elbow on his knee. "Why did his arrogance bother you? Did he not have a right to feel pride in his achievements?"

"Of course, but it was more that he knew he was better than me. He started arguments that would result in him telling me that he could do so much better than me. I started to believe it. He reveled in earning more than me, and I guess that is what I get for marrying someone that I enjoyed having power over to begin with.

"Then the gaslighting and arguments about money started - "

"Apologies for interrupting but what is gaslighting?"

"Oh, it's when someone says something untrue and you start believing it. It's the go to tactic for many bullies. Have them doubt their own sanity and you have all the power. And that's what he would do to me, tell me something and then argue that he never told me, or accuse me of being a drama Queen or making things up or imagining things or being too sensitive."

"I see," Terry said in a way that Sarah couldn't determine what he was feeling.

"It was a relationship that didn't have a bad guy or a good guy. It was not clear cut. It was messy and angry and frustrating. We both were incompatible but I am not completely innocent and he is not completely guilty. Until the day of my parent's funeral where I caught him shagging my best friend.

"Then it turns out he was shagging her for a while and spending a lot of the money on her, the same money he accused me of spending. He holds to his belief that I wasn't good enough for him."

"Do you believe him?"

"I did for a while. I don't any more. I know that I was happy to have a relationship that satisfied my selfish needs until the balance shifted and I am guilty of that narcissism for sure. I enjoyed being worshiped. It turns out Mark did too, so as I withdrew my affections, he found it elsewhere. I should never have married him. I have learnt from it. I will probably never marry again."

Terry blinked rapidly for a moment or two but showed no other reaction on his tanned face.

"You can at least acknowledge where you failed your relationship, though him betraying your trust and faith like that is on him. You're blameless for his actions there."

"I didn't always think like I do now. Two years of solid self reflection enabled me to process where I was at fault too. If you had asked me two years ago I would have told you he was utterly and completely in the wrong for everything that was rotten in our marriage. My pride wouldn't have accepted any blame whatsoever."

"I wonder what drove you to such deep self reflections?"

"I adore the Spriggets but conversation with them is limited and unvarying, so I have been left to my own meditations for a long time. I guess it's the Underground to the rescue of my character for a second time in my life, forcing me to re-evaluate my life."

"How did the Underground rescue your character the first time?"

"We're doing a lot of talking about me, Terry," Sarah gave a watery smile.

"It's been a long time since I got to talk to a new human being," he smiled. "You were the last runner, did you know that?"

"Was I?" Sarah was surprised. "How do you know?"

"We employees know whenever there is a runner in the Labyrinth. His Majesty informs us of the rules."

"Rules?" Sarah's scoffed. "Such as you get bogged if you help or befriend a runner?"

"Exactly, and since you stole the babe back, we haven't received another runner."

"Stole him back?" Sarah exclaimed incredulously. "I won him back. He is my brother."

"Yes, fair and square but with quite a bit of destruction left in your wake," he teased.

"I did what I had to."

"Yes, you did it for love," he said with admiration tinting his tone. "Now tell me how your character was rescued during your run?"

"Only if you then tell me something about yourself,"

"You drive a hard bargain but I agree to just that."

"Fine," a sigh. " I guess I was a spoilt, selfish teenager who, if you'll forgive the comparison, spent most of the time away with the fairies. The Labyrinth taught me to value friends and family over material things. And it taught me that yeah, the world isn't fair but you have to keep going. I learnt that dreams are important but not at the detriment of living. But saying all that, it also taught me about my self worth.

"There are better ways of not letting myself get taken advantage of than throwing a tantrum and wishing my problems away."

"That's an awful lot to learn in thirteen hours."

"Ten. The King does not like to play by the rules apparently," Sarah rolled her eyes at the memory.

"Even better then."

"Your turn," Sarah sat up straighter and placed her hands on her knees signifying her attentiveness. "I talk far too much, and you shouldn't encourage that habit."

"I do not think you talk too much at all. What would you like to know?"

"Anything," Sarah laughed. "You practically know my entire life story against my own better judgement but I know next to nothing about you."

"You know my name is Terry, my brother is Stephen. I work as a gardener at the castle. You know my parents have died. There is not much more to say about me."

"You must have interests or a story to share? Like your ancestors? Do you know if you're a wished-away or your parents were?"

"No, the wished-aways haven't been adopted by the human population for generations. The fae have stolen the babies for an incredibly long time. So my ancestors would have been wished away before my memory or that of my parents.

So I am not sure of my history. The Underground is all I know. But you know the human communities are a testament to humanity at its finest."

"I've said it before, but Aboveground could use a lesson from the humans here. I couldn't be more grateful to have the Spriggets take me in."

"We look after each other. Not to say it's a Utopia, but it certainly is a supportive system the humans have created to ensure their- our survival. The children are happier living in the human settlements than with the fae. It worked well for many years. Perhaps one day, it could return to that system."

"Do you think the fae would just one day decide they don't need to steal other people's children?" Sarah raised a brow, and curled her lip in disbelief.

"They are 'wished' away Sarah, for many reasons. Neglect, abuse, incapable parents -"

He didn't say it out loud but Sarah could almost hear him thinking that teenage tantrums were amongst the more frivolous reasons people wished children away. Sarah had the good grace to look ashamed of her own actions.

"From what I gather, maybe nature is trying to stop the fae from breeding, if they're such cruel creatures."

"You wouldn't be far from the truth. The myth is that they have been cursed with infertility. You think they deserve it?"

"Look, I can't say I have a world of experience, but one fae sent a murder machine with sharp, twirling knives after me when I was just trying to save my brother, amongst a laundry list of other things, another two kidnap me, then abandon me. But yet more fae steal babies, raise them in some cases worse than their original situation. It's not looking good from my standpoint."

"You're right, and humans kill, rape, torture, abuse, torment and hate each other. Totally blameless," Terry muttered sardonically.

"Yeah we're pretty shit too," Sarah agreed.

"But?" Terry prompted. "That can't be the end of your sentence."

Sarah shrugged. "I wished my baby brother away to an evil fairy king. I'm no better."

"Evil? You don't really know evil if that's your basis for comparison,"

Sarah flinched. "You sound like you're in love with him."

"No, I just know the difference between an evil fae and a good fae," he chuckled.

"Good?" Sarah stared at Terry with disbelief. "I guess good and evil can be subjective."

"Perhaps, or you're just quick to misjudge what you don't really understand."

Sarah ran her fingers through her long hair, picking out the knotty sections and working them out. "You'd have to agree he is at the very least, morally ambiguous."

"Sure, based on your personal Aboveground moral code, but he'd be closer to the good end of the spectrum than the evil."

"Why do we always end up talking about him? He taints everything. I want to get to know you, not hear anymore about that insufferable King."

"I am honoured you want to get to know me more," he smiled warmly at her, like he had the first day he'd met her. She felt her heart skip a beat and her stomach flip.

"How did you end up working as a gardener?"

"We needed a way to support ourselves as the farm is only small and not really enough work for both of us. I applied to the castle and was granted work. Been there for many years. See? My life really isn't that interesting."

"I find it interesting, tell me more."

They sat for a few hours longer watching the sun lower over the Labyrinth, changing its colour to a dusky orange colour, and instead of shining, the castle merely glimmered in the crepuscular light. They headed back to the cottage before twilight bled into night.

"I go back home on the morrow," Terry reminded her. "Will you be attending the Twilight Festival in two weeks time?"

"Unsure," Sarah shrugged. "We did last year so I guess we could do so again this year."

"If you do attend, will you save a dance for me?"

"Sure, but I warn you, I'm not much of a dancer."

"I'm sure you're a _dream_ dancer. I will be making the trip out here specially to have that dance with you."

Sarah was grateful for the low light so he couldn't see her inflamed cheeks.

He took her hand in his gloved ones. "Until then, my lady."

Soft lips pressed upon the back of her hand, and his chocolate eyes melted into the night as he took his leave. All her emotions that she had experienced today, should have left her exhausted but her talk with Terry had been somewhat cathartic as she felt exhilaration pumping through her veins.

* * *

Was there anyone that Sarah hated more than him?

He sat upon his throne tapping his riding crop against his leg as he contemplated the past few days. As Terry, he had found Sarah enchanting and easy to talk to but he was now buried crotch deep in lies of his own making.

It wasn't as simple as deceiving her to get to know her better. Now Jareth was piling on the lies to win her favour, and it could only end up in ruination. But he couldn't confess his real identity. Perhaps he could at the upcoming festival when he saw her next. However, he needed to get her alone.

Damn Sevlydi and damn him for being right. Sarah resented him, Jareth, resented the fae and he was betraying her trust in order to try and gain her trust. Even to him it didn't make sense anymore. Why was he doing this? He saw first hand how Sarah carried her guilt and her grief for her wish, did he really need to punish her further by deceiving her? He wasn't sure his ego could take much more of a beating as she, his wife, spewed her hatred of him at every opportunity she got. Was he willing to be second in a list of terrible husbands Sarah had landed herself with? It would almost be simpler to just pretend to be Terry for the rest of his existence. A reality that could not be realised, however he may now wish it to be.

Another thought battling with his own ego: had she grieved properly for her family at all? Which was another thing; he strongly suspected the Pinnsburrs of her parents' murders. They couldn't touch Toby, but if Toby wasn't there at the time, then they had access to his family. They wouldn't be hidden by Toby's bubble of magical protection. If he had gone away for whatever reason during any of the times of the year when the veil was thinner, he left his parents open and exposed.

Was this just revenge for the Stolen Pearl they were denied, or was there more at play than he first thought? The Pinnsburrs were merely puppets played by more powerful fae in their usual dealings, having no real initiative themselves. Surely, this was the same? It would explain the magic blocking spells that had stopped him finding Sarah.

Who would hate Sarah enough to go to these lengths? To kill her family? To take her brother away from her? To kidnap her? To block her from his detection? By her own admission, she had limited experience with the fae. Who hated her enough to make her think he, the King of the Goblins, was responsible for all those actions?

The Pinnsburrs were weak. They seeked revenge, and they definitely had a hand in all of this. But someone was their master. And Jareth was going to find out who. She was his wife and he wasn't going to sit idly by while some faceless fae took his future away from him.

A small part of him, that was less selfish, was also furious that Sarah had all that pain inside her, that in some ways, she had been right. It was his fault. All of it.

That cursed red book had brought her here to start with. He could have found another way to discover who his wife was to be without her having to resort to wishing a child away. He swore that when she was secure in the bonds of matrimony, he would destroy that book and put a stop to the Stolen Pearl trade.

* * *

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who is giving this story a chance. It is a slow burn, but hang on in there. We see a tiny bit of Jareth (not Terry) and Sarah soon.


	8. Chapter 7

CHAPTER SEVEN

The Twilight Festival. An annual celebration that involved food, dancing, bonfires and music. A celebration that the whole Goblin Kingdom celebrated simultaneously but separately in their own towns.

Last year Sarah had mostly looked after the younger Spriggets while Liam and Helena let loose. The year before Sarah stayed home with the younger children. This year the whole family was going but Helena had taken Sarah aside and informed her that she should try and have fun, so she wasn't responsible for the children this time.

Sarah raised a skeptical brow but let it go. Helena was well aware of the correspondence Sarah was receiving and sending. So naturally she had her suspicions about the nature of Terry and Sarah's friendship.

The day after Terry had left for his hometown, Sarah had received a letter from him.

_Dearest Sarah,_

_I hope this finds you well. I hope you don't perceive this letter as an imposition but as soon as I arrived back home, my thoughts steered me towards the hope of seeing you again at the Twilight Festival. But with that being weeks away, I reassured myself that you wouldn't object to some correspondence to tide me over._

_Our time together was brief but I feel it was well spent. I hope you don't find me too forward to say that I am intrigued by you and would like to get to know you better. I beg for the honour of a dance with you at the Festival._

_I can only apologise that my brother was unavailable to send you his farewells when we departed yesterday. I hope you and your family are not too offended by him not paying his respects earlier._

_The address listed is my home address, but by the time you receive this, I would have returned to my post in the Goblin Castle Gardens. The address for this is overleaf._

_Until I hear from you,_

_Yours,_

_Terry Finn._

Sarah had replied the moment she could get her hands on a pen and paper.

_Dear Terry,_

_Thank you so much for your letter. I would be honoured to accept a dance with you at the Fire Festival._

_I have enjoyed our three days together and thank you wholeheartedly for the time you spent and the food you supplied. Despite the context of some of our discussions, I really enjoyed having someone to talk to._

_I'm looking forward to the Festival._

_Thank you again for your kindness._

_Regards,_

_Sarah Williams._

Letters passed back and forth until it was the day of the Twilight festival. Now Sarah stood waiting in the garden for the Spriggets to walk down to the village green. She swished her deep purple skirts around her ankles as she whiled away the wait, watching the sun being swallowed by the horizon in a radiant burst of pinks and oranges.

"Here you go, finishing touches," Helena came out and placed a wreath of purple and dark blue flowers on Sarah's head. The purple matched the same shade of violet in her skirt, while the blue matched the necklace Helena had also lent her.

She made final checks of her white peasant blouse and adjusted her black cincher before she followed the children who were finally starting to trail down the street, all with different flowers weaved into their hair and clothing.

As they approached nearer to the village, music floated up to greet them. The sounds of fiddles and pipes filtered through the twilight, enticing the villagers to swiftly swell the crowds. Fairy lights hung from boughs of the trees and guided people towards the village green. Sarah was loathed to describe the scene as magical but it was the best descriptor available to her as she meandered through the burgeoning crowd towards the epicentre.

The bonfire. The huge centrepiece of the Green. Surrounded by revelers already dancing to the almost-Gaelic sounding tunes the nearby band was playing. Laughter and singing were also intermingling with the Irish-like Symphony.

Sarah had to resist the urge to join the fray and dance immediately as she felt the tendrils of the harmony crawl under her skin, causing goosebumps to rise up all over her arms, her limbs to become energised, and her heart to beat in time with the rhythm of the drums and strings.

She tore her attention away from the visual and sonic ambrosia and searched the crowds for any sign of Terry.

Her next sense to be ensnared was her sense of smell. The scent of many sweet and soulful culinary delights lingered around her; her stomach rumbling in response.

"Feel free to go off and explore," Helena said at her elbow. Sarah briefly wondered about Helena's constant encouragement to experience her freedom. The past two years she had barely got a break from watching the children or doing chores. Now she had been free to have walks or picnics, and now she could enjoy the festival without responsibility. "Make sure you get that handsome young man to court you officially."

Ah. That's what her game was. Sarah felt a rising blush as she contemplated everyone match making her with Terry. Especially after her promise to not ever get remarried. She brought an image of Toby into her mind to remind her why she wasn't going to get into a relationship while down here. At least not a meaningful one. Was that fair to Terry though? To have a casual relationship when 'courting' truly meant something down here?

"Helena, it's not like that," she grimaced. "I can help look after the children - "

"Seeing as though he saw you unchaperoned and he has written letters, it is pretty clear he has intentions to court you," Helena winked. "We wouldn't want to stand in your way, so don't worry about the children. They'll be fine with me and Liam, or Robby and Alicia. Us four can watch six children quite easily, Sarah. Go, have fun and enjoy yourself."

Sarah didn't bother pointing out that he saw her unchaperoned because Helena had urged her to go for the walk. Nor that it would be rude to ignore his letters. She watched as her friends disappeared into the crowd. And she turned to make her own way through the Festival.

"Hello, my dear," Terry grinned as she nearly collided with him. He was wearing tan form fitting pants, with dark brown boots. His shirt was white, and his brocade vest black with silver and gold swirling patterns, like the tendrils of vines etched into the fabric. In his brown hair he wore a wreath of autumn leaves and white daisies. Today his face was cleanly shaven, and less rugged than she was used to seeing him. His smile still lit up his features and warmed a part of her that she couldn't immediately identify.

"Terry," Sarah exclaimed, her shock and surprise engraved on her face.

"Sarah," he cocked his head to the side with a warm smile. "You're looking well."

"Thank you," Sarah smiled back, willing her blush to dampen. "It was this or an Aboveground cat suit"

"While this is probably more appropriate, I would be lying if I said I wasn't curious about the catsuit."

Sarah laughed to hide her embarrassment. "Of all the things I had to be kidnapped wearing, it had to be the catsuit. Why couldn't it have been a pair of track pants and a comfortable tee?"

"I'm not going to pretend I know what those items are, but it would be fairer to ask, why did you have to be kidnapped at all?"

Sarah sobered up instantly, and all she could muster was a sombre "yep."

"Apologies," Terry sighed and closed his eyes. "Shall we find something to eat? Unless you're waiting here for someone else."

"I wasn't waiting for anyone," Sarah answered too quickly, as they headed towards the food stalls. "But food sounds good."

The sudden recollection of the festival being coin and not barter based made her halt in her tracks. She had no coinage. She never had. Her stay with the Spriggets was based on her work on the farm. Her work on the farm allowed her to stay in the cottage. She was never paid. Admitting that with her Aboveground, Western sensibilities felt suddenly like despair.

She had been an independent, well paid woman in the Aboveground; living by herself (before and after her marriage), holding down a career and never relying on her ex husband for financial support. And if she was honest, never for emotional support either. She cringed at the thought of admitting she couldn't pay for any food herself. She also cringed at the fact Mark wasn't her ex husband legally. She had never signed those papers sitting waiting for her at home. How her life would have worked out differently if she had stayed at home to sign them, instead of going to the party with Hilary.

A sudden wave of recollection hit Sarah in the chest. Hilary would have no idea where she was, that she was safe. Two years here, could have been longer or shorter Aboveground, she had no idea. Hilary could be an elderly lady by now, still looking for her best friend that had disappeared at a party some 50 years earlier. Sitting there in her rocking chair surrounded by newspapers containing articles on the mysterious disappearance of the girl in the Catsuit. The guilt tore her up. So busy had she been, thinking about Toby, that Hilary had barely crossed her mind. And here she was worrying about not being able to pay her way at a fair.

She decided not to say anything and just pretend she wasn't hungry. She wasn't about to let a man pay for her, and she wasn't going to admit she couldn't take care of herself despite her sudden misgivings about Hilary's fate. She pushed past her feelings and followed Terry to the food carts and stalls ignoring the tantalising aromas that were making her dependence even harder to bear.

"What do you feel like first? A meat pasty or perhaps some of the pulled meat buns?"

"I am not that hungry, actually," Sarah lied. "But please don't let me stop you."

Terry eyed her skeptically with one dark finely arched brow. "I am ravenous, and so you definitely can't stop me from eating, but you're missing a treat."

They moved to a stall where Terry ordered both a pasty and a bun. Sarah tried not to let her hunger show on her face. They sat under a tree where they could watch the dancing which distracted Sarah from her desire to jump Terry just for a bite of his delectable food.

"Are you sure you're not hungry?" Terry asked. "I don't mind sharing half of my meal with you."

"Thank you, but I'm fine," she lied again.

"I tell you what," he laughed. "I will cut it in half and if you're hungry later, then you can eat it then."

"If I wanted food, I could get some myself," a third lie. "But thank you."

"Is it some Aboveground thing that you can't accept kindness from another human being, or is that just you?"

"I accept kindness when absolutely necessary," Sarah mumbled, affronted.

"So if you're hungry, please let me provide food."

Sarah stared off into the distance wildly uncomfortable. She reminded herself it was a different culture here and men and women were on the whole mostly equal.

"Tell me, if a Princess is a first born would she be the next Queen or would a younger son be the heir?"

"That's a bit of a segue from food, Sarah," he chuckled. "But it is determined on age not sex. Otherwise based on the logic of males before birth order, our King Jareth would have been made King of his older sister, Nudalun's Principality instead of the Goblin Kingdom. Queen Nudalun rules over Haddoyne, a Principality belonging to the Kingdom of Navas, where their father rules. However Haddoyne has more prestige and wealth than the Goblin Kingdom, therefore she got right of rule before the remaining younger sons."

"I see," Sarah nodded, fixing her flower crown as she talked. "I knew he had a younger brother but I confess I have avoided any political history lessons."

"To be fair, it is my understanding that our King Jareth doesn't have much of do with Prince Omre or Queen Nudalun."

"Prince Omre?"

"He is the heir to Navas, and the King's oldest son. When his parents pass on, he shall rule over the entire Kingdom including the two Principalities. Right now he is pretty much doing that as his mother is dead and his father and step mother are all but retired. He is King in practice but Prince by name."

At Sarah's lost look, Terry elaborated for her.

"So Navas is a Kingdom that encompasses both the Goblin Kingdom and Haddoyne. Both are Principalities, independently run, but the heads are still responsible to the ruling Monarch of Navas. The King of Navas, King Effistod, has four children. His first son is Omre who is the heir and regent while his father holds the title in name only. Next comes Nudalun who rules over the prestigious Principality of Haddoyne. Then with Effistod's new wife, he had King Jareth, King of the Goblin Kingdom and Lord of the Labyrinth. Sevlydi the youngest is the heir of the Goblin Kingdom. And 6th in line for the throne of Navas as Nudalun has two children of her own. King Jareth is the High King's cousin. Most of the royal family are related to each other somehow."

"I see. The two oldest have different mothers."

"Yes."

"I'm very familiar with living with a step mother and being the oldest. They have my condolences."

"Don't be so quick to offer them sympathy. You hate the Goblin King, but by comparison the two older siblings are what you may actually consider as evil. They are after all the ones that condone the Stolen Pearl trade."

Sarah could see hatred carved into every fine line on Terry's face. Any further discourse died in her throat. She nodded and looked away, swallowing the lump that had formed at the venom in his voice.

"Tell me what all this has to do with food," he commanded in a softer, kinder tone.

"I am not used to people paying for me. I pay my own way in my world. I needed some proof that this world isn't so backwards when it comes to women before I accept any kindness. The fact women can rule, is at least a step in the right direction, ignoring their role in the kidnapping of innocent children of course."

"Sarah, I admire your independence but what I admire most is the way you have gained the help and respect of the Underground. It is not shameful to be a part of a community, rather than independent from it."

"You sound like my high-school social studies teacher, he was big on socialism and communism."

"I don't have any clue to what you are referring to, but yes, here in Ghent especially, living socially and in a community is far more appreciated than-"

"- Capitalism, every man, or woman, for themselves, got it," Sarah smiled. "In that case, I would love to try a pasty."

It was warm, spicy, meaty deliciousness; pure comfort food. And coupled with the resonant, uplifting music, she was in sensory heaven.

"Do you like the music?"

"I love it," Sarah sighed. "It is invigorating."

Sarah found herself tapping her foot in time to the beat of the drums as she watched dancers with flowy dresses twirl and swirl around each other, like leaves in the breeze.

"I am quite keen to show you some of the sweet treats on offer and then would you like to dance?"

Sarah nodded. "I have had my eyes on those pastries for a while now."

And what pastries they were. Filled with fruit and cream, and just a sugar filled extravaganza for their taste buds. When they finished their treats as they moved through the crowd, towards the dancing.

Terry took Sarah's hand and they joined the dancers in a lively folk jig. Twisting, and turning, and linking arms together to twirl themselves around. Sarah made more than one misstep that devolved into almost hysterics as they bumped into each other.

"I told you I wasn't much of a dancer," Sarah panted as the lilting music swelled and increased its tempo.

"I think you're doing a splendid job," he grinned as he caught her from falling yet again. "This is a complicated dance."

When that piece ended, Terry took her to the edge of the dance space to catch her breath, still holding her hand.

"Sarah if you don't mind, I am just going to take you over there to be close to your friends, the Spriggets," Terry squeezed her hand before releasing it. "I've just spotted my brother and I shall have words with him"

"Stephen is here?" Sarah looked through the field of people but couldn't see him.

"I shall not be long, and I will return to you shortly," was all he said as he directed her towards the Spriggets. Some of her friends were lounging on the side of the dancers while the others were in the thick of things. He left her with the Spriggets, and disappeared into the fold of people.

"How have you been enjoying the evening?" Helena asked with a wink.

"It has been quite pleasant, actually," Sarah answered honestly, turning her face away with a smug smirk. She wouldn't allow herself to be teased like a blushing virgin.

"Sawah, dance," came Peggy's sweet voice and two pudgy hands tugging on her skirts.

Sarah let the toddler lead her back into the fray, the music now sonorous and rich with heavy drums and fiddles. The dancers were moving more sensually and dramatically than when she had shared a dance with Terry.

Sarah had got lost in the music, twirling the small body of Peggy around and laughing deeply with the child's outpouring of joy. She didn't notice someone approaching from behind until she looked up and caught Helena's face pale and her lip quiver. She flicked her eyes to Liam who was wearing a similar expression. Sarah frowned and turned around to glance behind her in the direction Helena and several other onlookers had started staring in.

In her periphery of sight, she noticed people starting to bow and curtsy. She didn't need any more clues to tell her who the stranger behind her was. It felt an age but finally she had turned around to face him.

Him.

The Goblin King.

For the first time in fifteen years she again stood face to face with her brother's kidnapper. Her childhood villain. The fae who offered her her dreams. He stood there, all sharp angles and wild blonde hair like he hadn't aged a day. She guided Peggy to stand behind her, as she stared him down.

The music had dulled under the sound of her own blood roaring in her ears. He had finally found her. There was a slim chance he wouldn't be able to identify her, so she sucked in a lung full of oxygen to keep the panic at bay.

His mismatched blue eyes pierced her as they made eye contact. She saw he recognised her in an instant. All hope was lost. Still, she pushed her shoulders back and held firm as his eyes travelled down her body, slowly and lasciviously before they flicked back up to her face.

"So you're Underground," he said in clipped tones.

Sarah resisted the urge to answer with a sarcastic 'obviously.' Her body felt like it was in a clamp; tight and unmoving.

"As you see," was all she could manage through her dry throat and parched lips. Her heavy tongue wouldn't even allow her to say it with a hint of sarcasm.

He just smirked and raised an eyebrow. Was that his default setting? She waited for him to rain hellfire down on her or set the guards on her. But he just continued to smirk.

"Just as long as you're staying away from the rock caller, and not destroying the Goblin City," he gave her a devious grin, sharp teeth glinting in the light of the bonfire.

Sarah flinched but remained silent, only lifting her chin higher in defiance of her accuser.

"Do you not have anything to say, if your lines aren't scripted for you?" he sneered.

"I have nothing to say to you," her mouth barely cooperated, before she looked away in hopes of finding Terry.

"Then I will take my leave from you," he shrugged, and turned away to melt into the crowd. All at once her lungs and blood started working again.

That was it? He was going to ignore her? No repercussions? Just a mild derision and then a dismissal? Sarah turned to see many faces peering at her. She ignored them and turned back to Peggy and resumed their dance, not able to regain complete composure at their brief but unexpected meeting.

* * *

Jareth had removed his human glamour with the intent of engaging with Sarah but upon reaching her and seeing her clam up, he no longer could find the words to justify escorting her away from her friends. She had held herself well, given her shock and surprise, but he could almost taste the hatred radiating from her as she partook in their stilted and brief conversation.

Revealing himself to Sarah wasn't going to plan. Not as Jareth nor as Terry. He never considered himself a coward, but he just couldn't brave destroying what they had built up as Terry and Sarah. One more night. He promised himself just one more night to savour her without their history getting in the way.

He thought of the cold, steely way she looked at him as Jareth, compared to the soft, warm way he had grown accustomed too. He just needed one more night, and then he would be honest with her.

With that in mind, he conjured up an illusion of himself as he returned to his Terry glamour. His illusion-self strutted off towards the dancers, as he retreated back to the festivities to find his wife.

* * *

When Terry rejoined her, she tore her eyes away from the King to sink into Terry's warm, brown eyes. She gave him a wobbly smile and then looked back into the mass of writhing dancers.

"Are you quite well Sarah?" He asked, placing a warm hand on her shoulder.

"He knows I'm here," she squeaked out. After Jareth had walked away, she returned Peggy to her family at the end of their dance. She'd then sculled back a goblet of wine to lubricate her dry mouth and unstick her brain from a continuous loop of self torture.

"Who knows..."

Sarah pointed to the Goblin King dancing with a finely dressed blonde woman who was all but draped over him. "He knows."

"Ah," a sigh. "What happened?"

"Nothing happened. He said I could stay if I didn't destroy the Goblin City again and then he left."

"Will you destroy the Goblin City again?"

"Yes, but only if he takes my brother again. Or harm anyone that I - that I love."

Terry didn't respond aside from a clicking noise at the back of his throat.

"Other than that, probably not. I have no intentions to waltz in and destroy the Goblin City for the fun of it. Those goblins don't deserve that. I'd quite enjoy contaminating his hair products with egg mayonnaise or Bog water, but no that's too obvious. Perhaps super glue or food colouring. Maybe both super glue and food colouring. Oh, I know, super glue, and food colouring, mixed with a dash of bog water - so it is undetectable - and a handful of bitey, sucky insects. Maybe fleas or ticks or mites. Perhaps that is a stretch too far. What would Matilda do? I will have a think."

Terry shook his head at her ramblings. "Aside from not having not the slightest clue who Matilda is, don't you think that's below you?"

"Pfft, it's just hair. It'll grow back. Matilda is a character from a book that is treated badly by her parents and she discovers she has telekinesis and uses it to play tricks on her parents, and other people that bully her. And he could probably just poof it back into shape with magic. Though I wouldn't really say it's in shape now. It's like a bird's nest that has been blown by the wind and caught in a spider's web. I'd just love to see the expression in his smug face when he has neon bright hair stuck together in clumps of glue. That would wipe that perennial smirk off his mug. I imagine he'd look just like you do now."

Terry's face had drawn into tight lines of horror mingled with disgust at Sarah's rambling tirade that she spewed out in one breath. His face relaxed into a neutral expression at the mirth plastered on Sarah's face.

"I'm joking, I won't mess with your Precious King's Precious hair, don't worry."

"Sarah have you been drinking since we last spoke?"

"You're going to judge me for that now?"

"Not at all. I just wondered if you would like a refill of your glass?"

"Oh, yes please," Sarah closed her eyes in her brief embarrassment. Terry took her goblet and meandered off towards the wine merchant. She watched him go wondering if there was such a thing as an Underground date rape drug.

Of course there was. The peach was an example of that. She blanched at the thought of her drink being spiked and turned to look back at the one who had given her the peach all those years ago.

He was still twirling the blonde woman around, but now a dark haired lady in a red dress, gracefully danced up to him and with a few elegant arm movements, she had enticed the King into dancing with her instead. The blonde moved to the side looking a bit put out, as the Goblin King swayed to the full-bodied, melodious music with the lady in red. As she watched she realised he was watching her in return, knowing instinctively where to place his hands on his partner, while his eyes were fixed on Sarah.

The red lady had shimmied up to him and spun around so her back was now facing his chest, and without touching her he ran his hands along her outline from her hair down her body to her hips, all while staring at her. It was perhaps the most erotic thing she had witnessed that didn't even involve physical contact. He then spun the dark haired dancer in red away and was rejoined by the blonde, who he then swept down into a dip before bringing her back up for a kiss.

Sarah looked away with an unknown feeling roiling in her stomach and was surprised to see Terry had rejoined her.

"Did you enjoy that?" his voice husky and low.

"The dancing was certainly enthralling," she fibbed. "Hey, did you find your brother?"

"Not yet, I will have another look for him soon. I just wanted to get back to you."

Sarah flushed as she accepted the wine goblet. She stared into its depths, feeling uncertain about imbibing its contents.

"Sorry, but I'm suddenly not wanting this drink," she offered the cup back. "I'm just going to go for a walk. I will be right back."

"Sarah?" he called.

"Just ablutions, Terry, I will be right back."

She missed public toilets. Even portaloos. But as she made her way into the forest to find a perfect tree to squat behind, she turned her mind over to thinking.

Should she run? Now he had seen her and was apparently almost all but completely indifferent towards her, was she safe or unsafe? More uncertainty than ever had crept into her thoughts where He was concerned.

She had allowed her thoughts to be tainted by him in regards to Terry too. He probably hadn't spiked the drink, but she just couldn't trust him. Or anyone. Especially in such close proximity to the one who had drugged her previously. It hasn't stopped her eating or drinking anything Terry had supplied before, but now - now she had learnt to be cautious.

Seeing her blonde, blue eyed, lithe nemesis again had stirred things deep inside her, including her unfathomable mistrust she had of men. Terry deserved better than her mistrust. At least she hoped he deserved better, and that she hadn't been deceived by yet another male.

Sarah finished her business and then taking a deep breath, cleaned herself up and started to head back to the festival. She stopped marching back towards the village to embrace the ambiance of mellow music mingled with laughter and singing, entwined with nature, taking deep satisfying breaths as she re-centered herself.

She was taken out of her meditations by a sudden twig snapping sound from her left. She peered into the gloomy trees for any sign of life, before scurrying off to rejoin the safety of the open ground.

* * *

Meffod and Yarbro stood on the periphery of the Twilight Festival, not able to get any closer than the trees surrounding the village green. The magic that surrounded the thief of their child was too strong for them to penetrate.

"The King has found her and protected her," Meffod snarled as she stared into the haze of smokey bodies hidden by powerful magic. "She's here though, this crystal that His Highness gave us to find her is very clear about that."

"Why don't we just join the party and lure her away?" Yarbro suggested.

"Under everyone's noses? We wouldn't get two feet before that poxy joke of a King smited us where we stood. Glib was very clear in telling us his intentions. He isn't about to let his future wife waltz off with us."

"She is merely a mortal- "

"I am not going through this ag-"

"A? A what?"

"Shh, you dolt, there she is."

Their prey stood no more than a few metres away from their very hiding spot, swaying in time to the music, humming along as if lost in a trance. Yarbro shot forward with the intention of grabbing her, stepping on a twig violently in the process. Sarah's head shot around to peer into the darkness towards them.

Meffod hissed at Yarbro to remain hidden and Sarah turned away and hurriedly strolled back into the public space, disappearing as if swallowed by mist.

"You clumsy oaf," Meffod growled. "That was our one chance."

* * *

Sarah nudged her way through the throng of people looking for Terry. She saw him on the edge of the dancers and made her way in his direction. The music was lively now and people were laughing as they switched partners and swirled around each other like tame, non destructive tornadoes.

Apparently they picked up anything in their wake as Sarah found herself caught up by the magnetic force of the dancers, laughing in her turn as she was spun around and passed from partner to partner.

As her last partner spun her into the arms of her next partner, her laughter died on her face as Jareth's hands clamped onto her waist. She instantly made to wiggle free, but he just held her tighter. His hands were encased in dove grey gloves, but even through them and her cincher, she could feel his heat as though his hands were made of hellfire themselves.

Sarah looked towards Terry and saw him calmly standing there with Stephen, both watching with nondescript expressions painted on their faces. She tried to convey all her urgency in her brief stare, before she felt herself being dragged by the Goblin King into the slower dance that had conveniently just started.

Sarah ground her teeth and gave one more futile struggle to release herself from his grasp.

"Why are you struggling so?" Jareth's baritone cut through as he moved one gloved hand from her waist, in a slow sweeping motion up her back and down her arm to claim her hand. The heat emanating from his palm left searing tracks up her torso and down her arm, leaving goosebumps tingling in its wake at the sudden deprivation of his warmth.

Sarah gave an involuntary shiver as she turned her defiant eyes to his.

"I can't imagine why," Sarah answered with all the warmth of an iceberg in frigid Antarctic waters.

"You let all these strangers fondle you, and yet the very thought of one who is known to you, having a single dance with you, offends you so?"

"Again, stating the obvious, Goblin King," Sarah arched a brow as he moved them elegantly around the dance, led by flutes and violins in harmony. A shudder rippled from where his hand seared her skin above the hip. His nimble fingers made slight movements along her waist increasing the intensity of those ripples, spreading them across her entire body.

"Is there someone here who you'd rather be in the arms of?" he asked, inclining his head before dramatically turning to look in Terry's direction. She followed his movements with her own eyes and turned away from Terry in an instant. Out of shame? Embarrassment? Self preservation? She wasn't sure. She just didn't want Jareth to see her looking at him.

"Literally anyone," she quipped, bringing his wintry steel blues back to her.

"You're so cold, my lady," he smirked. "The last time we danced, you seemed a bit more receptive, at least to begin with."

"Last time I was drugged," Sarah ground out through a dry mouth. Any moisture had left her mouth and was coming out in the form of sweat on her palms. One clutched in the Goblin King's vicious grasp and the other she had pressed against his emerald green jacket to try and put some distance between their respective bodies. Her finger brushed the medallion glinting off his chest as she splayed her fingers to reinforce her pushing endeavours. A small pulse of power shot through from the medallion and up her finger, like static shock.

Jareth just rolled his eyes skyward and tisked before he pulled her even tighter. Her hand pressing harder against his chest, her finger grazing his pendant with more force, shooting stronger pulses through the contact, her exertion for release even more futile than before. She could feel the hard line of his body, including unmentionable parts solidifying against her soft curves. The heat emanating from him was sweltering, making her efforts to push away even more in vain. The irony of her straining for release, as his cock was striving for the same thing against his pants, was not lost on her.

"Do you think you could perhaps just stop straining to break free just for a minute?" both eyebrows raised in question.

"You're holding me against my will."

"I am your King, it is my will that you dance with me," he declared.

_Pompous twat._

"You are not my K-"

"Oh, but I am," he interrupted. "The villagers here have informed me that you have been living in Ghent for over two years. That makes you very much a subject of the Goblin Kingdom. And very much a subject of mine."

"I didn't choose to be kidnapped down here," Sarah snarled. "And you have no p-"

"A dance, Sarah, is all I am expecting of you. It's not like I am requiring you to marry me."

Sarah threw her head back and laughed. "I wouldn't marry you if you were the last man left on Earth, Above or Underground. It's safe to just include the entire universe, while we're at it. An alien has more chance of making me consider matrimony."

"Come now, there must be someone you hate more than me. Your kidnappers perhaps or -"

"No, Goblin King, you are mistaken. You have the honour of being my very worst enemy. Congratulations."

They both went quiet as the dance slowed to a stop and the next number started up. Sarah yanked herself free, the moment she felt him loosen his grip. Without even a backwards glance she made her way to Terry, tears brimming in her eyes, causing spots of light to float in her sight.

As she reached Terry, her blurry vision caused her to stumble and two strong hands caught her around her waist, righting her in an instant.

"Sarah, are you alright?" Terry asked, his voice soothing and calming.

"No, that loathsome King of yours - "

"What did he do?" Stephen asked from beside Terry, his features pinched as he frowned at her.

"He forced me to dance with him, put his hands all over me and he was rude and obnoxious," Sarah spilled out, feeling infantile in her emotional disclosure as she felt Terry's hands release her.

"One often has to make contact to dance with a partner," Terry pointed out.

"I did not want to dance with him," Sarah spat.

"He is King," Terry took a deep breath. "If he wants us to dance, we dance."

"Just because he is used to getting his own way, doesn't mean he always should," Stephen countered.

"Exactly," Sarah clapped her hands in mock celebration at his statement. "It's good to see you again, Stephen, by the way."

"Thank you, you too," he gave a feeble smile.

"I think I will go home now," Sarah rubbed the back of her neck feeling awkward and out of place after her run in with the Goblin King.

"You're right, he should have probably asked you for a dance or let you go," Terry conceded. "He is a fool."

Stephen raised both eyebrows at his utterance as Sarah nodded slowly in agreement.

"Sarah, before you go, would you please have one more dance with me?" Terry implored.

"Sure, but then can you escort me home?" Sarah queried. She would be on the complete backfoot if Jareth set upon her with no magic at her disposal. At least with Terry she wasn't alone if he attacked her. And if she was murdered at the hands of the Goblin King, at least Terry would see the truth of his Monarch before he too was probably slaughtered. She had rapidly tired of his hero worship of the Goblin King. It momentarily occurred to her that she was possibly sentencing him to his doom, and a better person wouldn't risk someone else's life by bringing them along on a jaunt into unknown danger. She wasn't a better person right now.

"Of course, my lady."

Sarah let him lead her back to the dancing, holding her close to his body as they slowly moved together. Sarah felt relaxed and at ease in his arms, compared to when Jareth had danced with her. She felt compelled to tell him so.

"Terry, I feel safe with you, did you know that?"

"No I didn't, but that's nice of you to say," he smiled as he tightened his fingers around her waist and squeezed her fingers. "I feel safe with you too."

She peered up at him, their faces so close she thought he would lean in, bridge the distance and kiss her. Their breaths mingled as she parted her lips in anticipation.

"I am quite fortunate to have made a friend in you," he smiled, angling his head away from her, making it very clear no kiss was going to be shared between them. Sarah looked away, before she had a chance to feel her own mortification creep upon her.

She saw The Goblin King standing in the shadows watching her dance with Terry. Earlier she had wanted to protect Terry from any consequences the Goblin King may have spitefully administered, but now she felt the urge to hold Terry and in turn be held.

She pushed herself closer to him, feeling the hard planes of his body right against her. She rested her head on his shoulder. His response to her in a certain part of his anatomy stirred in her feelings that were more compatible with her conscience than her earlier dance with the Goblin King.

"Thank you for being a friend in this world," she whispered into his neck.

He gripped her tighter, his hand spread across her back. "Thank you, Sarah."

His hushed tones sent shivers down her spine that she relished. Her introspection on not starting a relationship slipped from her mind as she was held tightly, warmly and with care.

"When will I see you next?"

"We will arrange something via letters, hmm? And soon!"

As promised he walked her back to the cottage, the music ebbing away with the distance they crossed, until it was a low hum, almost drowned out by the last of the season's crickets chirping from the hedgerows. Outside the door to Cloverfield Cottage, he kissed the back of her hand as always and then brought his free hand up to cup her cheek. She saw many emotions flicker across his brown eyes, before settling on a sort of wistfulness.

"I look forward to seeing you again, My Sarah."

* * *

When Sarah told him she felt safe with him, he almost told her right then who he really was. He also almost kissed her. Oh how he had been sorely tempted to meld his lips with hers, as she stared innocently into his eyes, her rosy mouth so close to his he could feel her heat. He could almost taste her, she was that close. He could see the darker speckles and lines of green in her verdant eyes. He longed to run the pad of his thumb over the freckle on her upper lip, to tangle his fingers through her luscious brown locks, and rub his nose against her elegant, slightly turned up nose.

But something in him snapped then. He couldn't kiss her, he shouldn't kiss her and he wouldn't kiss her. Not as Terry. He was already deceiving her. He couldn't take advantage of her physically as he was already doing enough of that emotionally and mentally.

He ported back to his castle to find a fuming Sevlydi sitting askance in his throne.

"What are you doing in my throne Sev?"

"Waiting for an explanation from you. You said you would tell her the truth, that I could then go back to my life, see Rica again without worrying about my big brother? Or worrying that he'd make himself vulnerable? But what do I find? A coward who doesn't own up to the truth, who deceives his supposed future wife further, and then treats her abysmally when he is his true self.

"Tell me brother, how far will you push her? Will you be married to her before she knows the truth? Or are you waiting until she has borne you children?"

Jareth glared silently at his youngest sibling. His mouth a grim ilne. His eyes narrowed slits.

"How many times did you create an illusion to trick her, Jareth? How many times did you deceive her into thinking you couldn't possibly be the same person?"

"Tonight didn't go to plan," Jareth conceded, marching up to his throne. "But if you ever sit in MY throne again while I live to draw breath, there will be consequences."

Sev languidly stood up and strutted down the dias like a cat, both eyebrows raised and his usually tame blonde hair flaring around his head like the mane of a lion.

"You will be the one who receives consequences," Sevlydi warned. "You think your mortal will forgive you for your deception? You think Omre and Nudalun will wait for you to mend your bridges with the human after you break her fragile heart? Do you think they will stop at destroying you? Do you think Rica and I will come out unscathed at the end of all this?

Do you think of anyone but yourself?"

"How does this affect you and Rica?"

"You think Omre and Nudalun will stop their punishments with you? If they realise I've been helping you - aiding and abetting you, to marry anyone but their selected wife, Forsythia, they will try to bring me down too. And what better way, then, to bring me to court for my illegal relationship with Rica?"

A crash reverberated around the throne room as a clumsy goblin dropped a water goblet across the stone floor.

"Watch what you're doing, Glub," Jareth scowled, rubbing his temples.

"It's Glib, not Glub," the Goblin answered back.

"Excuse me?"

"Apologies, Majesty," with a low bow the Goblin scuttled off.

Jareth turned back to his wayward brother. "I understand your concern. I have a plan."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This chapter was influenced heavily by the 1996 version of Michael Flatley's Lord of the Dance. If you listen to the soundtrack or watch the film while reading, it will really help you live this chapter.
> 
> Thank you to all my reviewers and followers. I am well chuffed with the support. :D
> 
> Pro-tip: Next chapter things start speeding up and we will see some more Sarah Vs. Jareth. Isn't he a different creature when he is himself vs. Terry?


	9. Chapter 8

CHAPTER EIGHT

It had been over two years. Hilary rolled over in bed and stared at the framed photo perched on her bedside cabinet of a beaming Sarah with her arms around her pale, freckled shoulders. It was one of many photos of the two of them, but it was her favourite. The frame was slightly tarnished on the right hand side where she had run her finger down in her sorrow.

Her best friend was still missing without a trace. The police had let it stagnate into a cold case. No one had seen her leave the bathroom. The door was still locked from the inside when people then busted it open in their impatience. The windows were also still fastened from the inside, when the police were called by Hilary. They reasoned someone else could have shut them and locked them in the time that it took for the police to arrive. They didn't find any of her finger prints on the latches though.

Hilary often wondered about that man who had been helping her look for him, Jack, or Jim or whatever his name was. The man that had been dressed like a 80s hair-band rockstar fairy, with glam makeup and everything. He had claimed he had been a friend. He disappeared that night also. Except no one remembered him but her. Even Mark who had drunkenly argued with the fairy, only had vague recollections. He kept insisting she had done a runner with a college student.

When the cops questioned her they had been very interested in Jack or Jim. Less interested in Mark, despite being the angry, potentially violent and unfaithful ex husband.

All leads ran cold; like her blood the moment she realised she had lost her best friend. However, she didn't stop looking for her in crowds, on trains, in shops or wherever she went. Her eyes constantly scanned for a dark haired, green eyed beauty, always coming up empty. She often asked the police if they had any new information. They never did. They never really seemed to care, either.

Hilary missed her. Missed her laugh, and having someone to talk to. Sarah had been someone who had given her a chance in life, when all others had let her down. As cliche as it was, Sarah had been Hilary's rock. She lost her family and her friends from a previous life, for many reasons, one of which was her bisexuality. Sarah was open, caring and fun. Hillary didn't deserve her, but she sure as hell was going to keep fighting for her. No-one else seemed concerned about her vanishing, but Hilary wasn't about to let people forget that Sarah Williams existed and had been a phenomenal human being.

"Where are you Sar?" she whispered to the frame as she did every morning. Her ritual. Something about living constantly on edge and given her many different ticks and rituals, so she had some semblance of control over her life when she felt like she had none at all.

She had guardianship over all of Sarah's belongings as she had been listed as Sarah's next of kin. Mark should have been, but he wasn't interested, so it passed to her. She kept a box of belongings that had been special to Sarah, ready for when she returned. Some of her furniture she had also kept, like an ornate mirror that Sarah claimed had been handed down to her as an heirloom. It looked like an ordinary mirror to her, but Sarah had insisted it was special.

If I was special to Sarah, then she kept it.

She had also tried fruitless times to contact Toby. He had a right to know his sister was missing. But every number she tried, led to dial tones. Another ritual: phoning different numbers, _from_ different numbers at different times. No wonder Sarah had no luck over the years. It had been an insurmountable task.

Kicking her legs out of bed, she went through her morning routine. She tried yet another number from a burner phone, writing it all down in her diary as it rang out.

Her next task was to read the little red book. She had found the little red book amongst Sarah's most treasured belongings. She read it and re-read it.

She didn't know why.

Something about the Goblin King seemed strikingly familiar however. So she opened the book as she always did and scanned the pages.

It was only a brief flickering, but something caught her eye. Carefully she turned the pages until she came across some words scrawled in the margin, that she could have sworn she had never seen before.

"Call Hoggle: Mirror. "

She looked towards Sarah's mirror and cautiously peered into it.

"Call Hoggle," she said aloud. "Hoggle?"

Nothing happened. Of course it didn't. The mirror reflected only Hilary's wan features and her dyed blue hair. Dying hair was her therapy. Her blue eyes always seemed to clash with her red hair anyway. At least now her hair and her eyes matched. Sighing, she rested her face in her hands. Her isolation from the world and Sarah, was turning her into a mad person. Talking to mirrors and expecting to see something, and a Hoggle at that. What on earth was a Hoggle anyway?

"Yer not Sarah," came a gruff voice. Hilary's head shot up and in the mirror was the ugliest, bulbous nosed, blue eyed creature she had ever seen. She spun around to see nothing but her empty room. With trepidation she turned back to the mirror.

He was still there gaping back at her. He was IN the mirror.

"I said, yer not Sarah."

"N-no, I am not," Hilary swallowed. What the fuck was happening? "Who or what the fuck are you?"

"I is Hoggle, and I ain't interested in telling you what I am," he groused.

"Hoggle?" Hilary picked up the red book, and showed him. "This fucking book asked me to call you."

"Wells, yer did, didn't ya?" blue eyes were rolled under heavy set lids.

"I did," Hilary nodded. "Sarah has been missing for two fucking years. I'm her friend, I'm Hilary."

Hoggle's eyes narrowed, and he thumped his chest. "Sarah is my friend."

"She was - is my friend too," Hilary couldn't believe she was about to placate this creature in the mirror. She also vowed she would cut down on the swearing, despite this unbelievable event currently happening that was driving her to swear harder. "I am sure you're a wonderful friend of hers too."

He just grunted.

"She's fucking missing, Hoggle," Hilary continued, forgetting her vow instantly. "Two years ago she went missing from a party. No one has seen her since. She went into the bathroom, and never came out. Just fucking vanished."

"Two years ago you say?" Hoggle rubbed his warty chin. "By my workings, I'd say that was thirteen years after she defeated the Labyrinth."

He paused and looked down at his large, tough leathery looking hands. Hilary frowned as he spoke. What the fuck was happening? Was the Labyrinth the one from the book? She had to be dreaming. Sarah was into fantasy but clearly the doctors had to up her depression medicine. Or decrease it. She had to be hallucinating.

"Yeah, thirteen years by my reckoning, ya didn't happen to see a floppy yeller haired man-rat did ya?"

Her eyes widened, her nostrils flared. "There was a man claiming to be her friend dressed as a glam rocker fairy from the 80s. He vanished too."

"That sounds like the rat," Hoggle covered his eyes with his hands. "That rat Jareth has gots the nerve to kidnap our Sarah."

"Jareth?" furrowing her brow, and biting her lip, she tried to recall his name. "I swear he said his name was Jack."

"Ah, missy, that line about fae not being able to lie is...well, a lie."

"Fae?" Hilary laughed. She had to. This was insane.

"Yeah, he's the Goblin King, nasty piece of work," Hoggle sighed. "Didn't thinks he'd kidnap her though. And you say it's been two years. I haven't seen her. Nor has Sir Didymus, ands I doubt Ludo has either. However-"

He tapped a gnarled finger against his forehead. "He has beens acting peculiar-like. He keeps disappearing to Ghent. Maybe she's there."

"Ghent? Where is that?"

"Town to the east of the Labyrinth, mainly humans there," Hoggle explained.

"Labyrinth? You keep mentioning that?"

"Yeah well that's where I lives after all."

"What country?"

"The Underground," Hoggle growled. "It ain't important. I need to gets everyone to start looking for her. We needs to find her and rescue her. She is my best friend, not that she deserves me."

"Please let me know the moment you know anything," Hilary begged.

"We wills."

With those final words Hoggle disappeared from view. Hilary stared blankly at the mirror for a solid ten minutes wondering if she had totally lost her mind. Part of her knew it had been real. That Jack fellow had kidnapped her and taken her Underground.

It didn't sound good, but a burst of hope battled the rising dread within her. After two years this was something to give her hope, or give her closure. She bit her lip and scrunched her eyes up as so many feelings swept over her.

She had to go to work soon but she almost felt like ringing in sick in case Hoggle contacted her again. She clutched the red book and hugged it close to her chest.

"Thank you book, for giving me something to go on," she whispered. "Please let me find Sarah."

She almost imagined a slight answering warmth from the book in her hands. She just saw a talking dwarf - man- thing in a mirror. Her best friend had been kidnapped by a fairy in a Tina Turner wig. It wouldn't surprise her at this juncture if the book could hear her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter coming really soon, where we get back to the main story line, after this deviation to check in on Hilary. And finally we get to see Hoggle after eight chapters.


	10. Chapter 9

CHAPTER 9

Sarah couldn't believe she was on the way to the Goblin City. It had been a few weeks since the Twilight Festival and after a fair bit of correspondence she had agreed to meet Terry at the Goblin City and stay for the week. The Spriggets had agreed all too readily. Sarah had to wonder if they were trying to get rid of her.

Not one to dwell in self pity, she soon rallied herself, though there was still the question of the Goblin King. She didn't want to accidentally bump into him on his turf. Well more so his turf than an outer village like Ghent. Terry assured her she would be fine. The Goblin King had duties at the capital of Navas, where his father and brother, Omre, resided.

Her accommodation at the Goblin City Inn had been taken care of and Terry would meet her for meals during her stay. He assured her that she would be allowed in the castle gardens.

_King Jareth of the Goblins and Lord of the Labyrinth approached me shortly after the festival having noticed my acquaintance with you. He informed me that as Champion, you have the right to claim residence at the castle as a lady of the land. So if you wish for better accommodation than the Inn, a room can be made available to you at the Castle._

Sarah had read that and laughed. Her reply was short and perfunctory. She wouldn't be requiring "castle residence", thank you very much. She would make do with the Inn. Though she was sorely tempted to waltz in like she owned the Castle, after her encounter with him earlier, she had to decline.

She wasn't still a hundred percent about what had bothered her most about her dance with the King. The fact he made her dance with him and antagonised her, or the fact that a part of her had enjoyed being held by him, feeling his obvious desire and this very thought made her feel sick.

Sure, at fifteen she had been drawn to him, but with age came wisdom. As much as her body may tell her otherwise, fantasies about the Goblin King were a very bad idea. A repugnant idea. Revolting. Dangerous. Enticing? Enthralling? Captivating? No, dangerous. Definitely dangerous.

She hadn't been run out of town by his knowledge of her presence. In fact nothing had changed. No one had come after her. The Spriggets had seen her dancing with the King and they hadn't raised any alarms about the incident. She didn't want to get too complacent however. There was every chance Jareth was biding his time for his revenge.

However, she really wanted to see Terry again so she had agreed to this wee holiday. And now she was approaching the outside of the Labyrinth and her heart rate had picked up and she was second guessing her decision to come at all. What if The Goblin King was there? Or came home early?

Was a small part of her hoping to bump into him again? No, that was ludicrous. Utterly and completely. She wasn't going to entertain that thought again. She was here now though, too late to turn back. The walls of the Labyrinth consumed her vision in either direction.

To gain ingress into the Goblin City without being a runner you have to approach via the Eastern Gates. They're invisible to runners, but guests, dignitaries and royalty could detect the opening and therefore enter. Terry had given her a history and geography lesson in practically every letter. It was unhealthy how obsessed with this mass of bricks and stones he was.

A wooden booth sat on the outside for refugees to submit their petition for access to claim asylum. A disgruntled looking Goblin sat in there swinging his feet and swatting flies. No petitioners were assembled today.

The gates swung open at the approach of Sarah's cart. And so for the first time since she defeated it, she entered the Labyrinth.

The road leading to this point had been rough and bumpy but the road heading towards the City was smooth and easy, like silk compared to sandpaper. She shuffled her bottom on the wooden bench as she took in the sight around her. It was tree lined the entire distance that her sight could reach, the boughs stretched over, enveloping the road like a tunnel, letting dappled light through the canopy. Green and purple flowers circled each trunk like a blossom halo. This part of the Labyrinth must have received more upkeep than the bits she had traversed, as it was noticeably glitter free.

Memories flooded her mind. Nostalgia flooded her senses. The smell, the sight, the sounds all so familiar, all a part of her psyche, ingrained like blood upon cloth. Part of her believed she should be panicking like the walls were closing in on her. But she wasn't. Calmness had overcome her. She felt like she was in a warm embrace. She had never felt such a sense of belonging. Even when looking upon the black and gold flags adorning the walls, bearing the half moon symbol the Goblin King wore around his neck in pendant form.

The cart dipped into a pothole, jolting her out of her all encompassing but brief serenity. She could still feel the spirals of that tranquility within her but her other senses took over, reminding her of her precarious position entering the Devil's lair so to speak.

Not long after her reverie had been broken, she arrived at the gates of the city. Different - more ornate, more regal than the ones she had entered through via the rubbish dump. The driver of the cart yelled out and the gates opened.

They meandered their way up a rutted, narrow street between the lopsided, dusty orange buildings until they pulled up outside the Inn. Standing there waiting for her was Terry. A giant grin lighting his beautiful, tanned face. She beamed back as she gathered her belongings and stood up to alight the cart.

He held out his hand for her, which she readily accepted. The moment her feet touched the ground, he pulled her into his embrace. Sarah found herself instinctively reciprocating, her arms winding around his waist.

"I'm so glad you made it," he said into her hair, before releasing her with another smile. "It's been too long."

"Only two weeks."

"An eternity to me," he gave a wan smile.

"Not long at all then," Sarah retorted, her smile slipping into a frown, while his feeble smile grew in brightness. Why had she said that?

"No, my dear, not long at all," Terry's grin stretched even wider. "Shall I escort you to the inn?"

Sarah thanked him and let him lead the way.

"Though I think you'd be better taking up the offer of a room at the castle. The King is away in the Capital of Navas, and it's much more comfortable. And clean. Besides, despite the inn having the capabilities to cater to humans, it's not _used_ to catering to humans."

"Thank you, but I would rather not," Sarah gave a wry laugh. "I am still half expecting him to jump out and stick me in a dungeon. I am surprised I convinced myself to even come here."

"I am so glad you did," Terry paused outside the door to the inn. "Sarah you're quite safe with me, I assure you."

"Two mortal humans versus the world," Sarah's lips twitched. "What could go wrong?"

"Don't let yourself be deceived by appearances," his voice lowered as he said this, a shadow passed across his face.

"Why? Do you have hidden magic or are you actually a fae in disguise?" Sarah chortled.

Terry just laughed as he pushed the door to enter the inn.

It was twilight so the inn was busy with goblins and other creatures drinking, eating and making merry. Sarah took one look around the room and instantly regretted her decision.

"You can always change your mind," Terry whispered in her ear, the heat from his breath sending shivers spiraling down her spine.

Sarah laughed and winked at Terry. "I have my pride, and I am quite stubborn."

"But just be assured you don't need to be stubborn," Terry touched her shoulder lightly. "You would have access to grander chambers than my own modest worker dwelling, and you could live like a princess for a few days."

"No thanks," Sarah shook her head vehemently. "I have no desire to be any form of royalty."

"It was my understanding that mortals devoured fairy tales where they marry their Prince or King," Terry frowned.

"And pre-fifteen year old me would have jumped at the opportunity," a deep sigh. "Not any more."

"What changed?"

"I have more realistic aspirations now."

"Realistic? Sarah, you're in the world of magic and you want "realistic"?"

"It's not as if I have any royalty lining up to make me a princess anyway, so it is a moot point " Sarah said, trying to inject humour whilst on the verge of snapping.

A Goblin wandered over, taller than many that she had met before. Terry informed her who she was and that resulted in a sideways glance at her, a grunt and then he beckoned at her with his gnarled hands.

The room at the top of the stairs was small. A human sized bed, with grim looking sheets and grimmer looking décor. Everything was rickety and aged and like it was all held together by its last thread.

"Anytime you would rather -"

"This is fine, I will be fine," even Sarah could hear the strain in her voice. "I am sure your company will be more than enough compensation for the accommodation."

Terry smiled and stepped closer to her. "I will have dinner with you tonight here at the inn, and then tomorrow you can break your fast here, but I insist you join me in the gardens for luncheon."

"If you insist," Sarah stuck her tongue between her teeth.

"I do. I want to make the most of you being here."

"It's why I'm here," she winked.

Terry reached up and ran two fingers softly through her hair. "Sarah, you are such an exquisite creature. That you even give me the time of day - "

He stopped as she closed her eyes to his touch. He pulled his hand away as if he was burnt. Her eyes snapped open and Terry stood with fists clenched and his jaw clenched.

"What's the matter?" Sarah asked.

"Sarah, I should t-" he stopped and drew his lips into a thin line before he closed his eyes and sighed. "Nothing, nothing. Should we go eat our meal so you can get an early night after your journey?"

He turned and left. That was the second time she thought he would kiss her, but pulled away at the last minute. Part of her had debated whether it was sensible of her to kiss him, but the other part actually longed to. She realised she had made the decision to come here, because she intrinsically craved more from him than friendship. And he seemed to want more from her too.

Except he'd suddenly pull away when it seemed he was coming in for a kiss. Such mixed messages.

Sarah rubbed her forehead and followed the man back downstairs.

Dinner was a quiet affair, from their table at least. The rest of the inn was loud and rowdy. It showed no signs of slowing down by the time Sarah was ready to make her way back up to her room.

Terry promised he'd walk down to take her to the gardens as soon as she had finished her breakfast. She was granted a kiss on her cheek as he took his leave.

Terry's lips were warm, and soft on her skin. It was chaste, but with a lingering promise of more. Green eyes met brown as he pulled away. She wanted to ask him what it all meant. What was it between them? She settled for goodbye.

* * *

Sarah hadn't had much sleep at all. Between the noise from the inn, the threadbare sheets and the bed that had more dips and bumps in it than a dirt bike track, or indeed the rough road from Ghent, she was either wide awake or restless. Not to mention absolutely covered in bites which she assumed to be the work of a flea army. Or a bedbug brigade.

Breakfast was lukewarm porridge and absolutely cold, bitter coffee. All while trying her hardest to ignore the unbearable itch from all the bites. By the time Terry arrived Sarah was in a foul mood.

"Sleep well?" he asked in a tone that belied his innocence.

Sarah just scowled in return. She followed Terry up the windy lanes weaving between the ramshackle riot of buildings.

"I take it you didn't sleep well then," he said as they put distance between themselves and the inn.

"I've had better," she stopped to scratch her ankle furiously. "I can't say I've had much worse though."

"Sarah, please I implore you, stay at the castle."

"I'm tempted," she switched to her other ankle. "Do goblins not feel these horrid things biting them?"

"Goblins are thick skinned and less sensitive than humans, so no," he said. "The castle is riddled with magic. No biting insects can survive there. I have some cream in my chambers. Try and stop scratching until then."

Sarah jumped up and down on the spot to try and distract her mind from the itch. She was tempted to sleep in the castle. She knew however that the Goblin King would find out one way or another that she had been there. Her pride couldn't take the fall. Or could it?

As she resisted the urge to scratch her stomach, she was tempted to throw safety and pride to the wind for sanity and comfort. Was she so very weak willed?

Before she could think anymore on it, Terry steered her through a strong wooden gate that led to a sandstone coloured tunnel open to the heavens. He closed the gate behind him and strode to Sarah's side.

She went to scratch again but found her hand suddenly caught captive by Terry's.

"Stop scratching Sarah," he cajoled. "Defy them, defy their power over you."

Sarah found her eyes meeting his, and a burst of emotions erupted within her. She found herself linking her fingers with his and squeezing his hand with hers. He returned the gesture instantly and side by side, hand in hand they walked down the tunnel.

They walked past the castle, occasionally past doors leading inside until they reached an area where the tops of trees could be seen over the internal wall of the passage, with the Goblin City still rising on the opposite side.

"There are quite a few different gardens but we will be going into this one," he rubbed her hand clasped within his, with his thumb as he unlocked another gate and walked through into a beautiful garden bursting with colours and scents.

Flower gardens littered the space with the odd tree providing shade over marble benches or a statue of some kind. Cobblestone paths etched their way through all the flowers leading ultimately towards a lake in the centre. Birds of all descriptions added to the soundscape while fluttering around in a motley of shapes and colours.

The other gardens could be seen peering over the ornate red brick walls surrounding the garden, in the form of trees and obelisks.

"Make yourself at home while I go and retrieve that cream for your bites," Terry invited, indicating the path directly in front of them. He slipped back out of the gate as she followed the cobblestone down towards the lake.

Sarah snuck a brief glance towards the castle, even knowing the Goblin King was absent, it still loomed over her taunting and mocking her very much like it's main resident does.

The lake was clear and clean and lined with shrubs and flowers unlike anything she had seen in any Aboveground garden. They were strewn and scattered across the ground, stretching in colourful disarray like a patchwork blanket, broken only by the water, trees and paths in their midst. There were flowers that glowed, or twinkled, or released glittery blue bubble-like emissions and one that bloomed, burnt to ashes, and bloomed again within minutes.

She took shelter from the heat of the day on a marble bench under a large willow-like tree watching the sun glint off the crystalline water. Her hands were placed on the cool marble, and she rested her head against the trunk of the tree as she focused on ignoring her itchiness.

How tempted she was to accept Terry's invite to stay at the castle to avoid partying goblins and hungry fleas. She shuddered at the thought of crawling back into that infested bed again. She was also almost induced to strip off and jump naked into the lake to feel the soothing coolness across her itchy skin.

She was so tired from her awful sleep. She gave in to a huge yawn then closed her sore bleary, sand filled eyes, with thoughts of swimming in the pool while Terry watched her naked form diving under the surface. As she resurfaced from the lake she discovered it was Jareth watching her nude swimming, not Terry. She had full control over her day dream and could easily dismiss the Goblin King, if she so chose. She decided not to. She dived under again, the cool water flowing past her naked body like cool, wet silk. Her head broke the water tension as she came up for air. Jareth was now stripping off his own clothes and joining her in the lake.

His pale, lithe, disrobed body paced elegantly and with confidence into the pool of water. He came right up to her, and she wrapped her naked body around his equally unclad body. Eyes locked briefly, before he leaned in for a searing kiss. It was hard, fast and passionate, before he jumped in the water with her still clinging to him. They surfaced still entangled with one another, Sarah watching the water droplets flow from his now limp hair, down his clavicle and his well toned chest. She leaned in and let the droplets fall on to her tongue as she looked up at the King, looking down on her. His eyes were both fully dilated and she could feel the evidence of his desire pressed up against her bare skin.

Slowly, she eased her tongue down his body, around his tummy button, following the trail of fine hair down towards his -

"Sarah," a soft voice like one she had heard in a dream, whispered in her ear. A smooth hand touched her lightly on the elbow. She realised with sudden clarity that she had dozed off.

She rubbed her gritty eyes and looked into the blurry face of Terry. She blushed furiously, at the thought of her dream; hoping Terry couldn't read her mind.

"I think you may need to stay in the castle and not the inn," he said not unkindly. "I think you're incredibly tired."

"I am," she squeaked. "But I can't. I feel trepidation _being_ here as it is without staying here too."

"The Goblin Kingdom is open to you as the Champion, by right of conquest."

"Right of conquest?" Sarah laughed.

"Yes, and it takes a lot for me to admit that," Terry smirked.

"Why?" Sarah's tone and face were equally quizzical.

Terry bit the side of his lip, then rubbed his hand down his face. "I brought the cream. It will heal the bites immediately."

"How?"

"Magical kingdom," he grinned. "Healers make wonderful potions and tonics from herbs found in the kitchen gardens. I will show them to you on another day if you wish."

Sarah took the small cream vial and glanced around. "I need to put the cream in some places that aren't decent, so is there somewhere I can go that is private?"

"There is a glade over there that will offer you full privacy," Terry pointed beyond the willow. "I will start my work closer to the castle. Apply the cream liberally, sit with it for a few minutes then rub it in."

Sarah thanked him and headed off towards the glade. She only wore a simple work dress and no stockings so it was easier enough to strip down to her shift. Once the cream was applied and then rubbed in, she redressed feeling instantly comfortable with no itching. She observed the spots on her arm disappearing before her very eyes. The only discomfort now was the residual arousal from her interrupted dream.

Satisfied (on one front), she started heading off back to Terry, when she noticed something from the corner of her eye.

In the nearest tree there was a carving of an owl. A barn owl of course. The owl had its wings outstretched next to a humanoid with no distinctive features. Between them was a string of pearls with abalone shells ingrained into the body of the stones. Sarah leaned in closer to the carving, noticing a word carved under the string of pearls.

 _ **Briyash**_.

She had no idea what that meant but she took note of it, continuing her inspection to notice that at each end of the string of pearls was a moonstone. She got lost in her admiration and almost forgot about returning to Terry.

With a sigh, she left the grove and headed back towards where she saw Terry digging over a flowerbed.

"All better?" he asked upon her approach.

"Yes, it truly was magic," she smiled. "Thank you."

"You're most welcome," he wiped his forehead with the back of his gardening glove. "Now, if only you'd agree to stay in the castle. I won't badger you again, but just know the offer is there and you're most welcome to- "

"Terry, I think I may take up the offer, " a sheepish grin. "If you promise not to tell his Royal Highness."

Sarah said his honorific with a dash of sarcasm that didn't escape Terry's notice by his raised eyebrow and slight curl of his lips.

"I won't tell him that you stayed here but you should know that he will know regardless," Terry pointed out.

"Damn, well then I will just have to suffer no sleep for the rest of the week."

"I admire your independence, but please don't be stubborn, not for his sake," he ripped his glove off, leant the spade against the wall and placed his fingers gently one of her arms crossed against her chest. "Sarah, I would hate for you to be uncomfortable on my behalf."

"Terry, I just can't let myself be at his mercy," she shook her head in dismay. "As much as I would like to be out of that flea infested place and to also be closer to - to you."

"Oh, Sarah," he closed his eyes and swallowed. "I want you to be closer to me too. I am so grateful you're here, but I loathe the thought of you staying in that dismal place when you're free to stay here."

"As long as he doesn't turn up and surprise me, then I guess it's ok," she confessed.

"Truly?" Terry grinned. "Let's go and inform the goblins to set up a room for you straight away."

"Not wasting any time, are you?" She chuckled.

"I won't let you change your mind, my dear and I am so happy that you're taking up your rights as your title allows you."

"Champion of the Labyrinth is a highly honourable and much envied title," he continued as they strolled back through the garden gate towards the castle. "No one has held it before and it comes with many perks."

"Perks?"

"Aside from immunity from the King you so despise, you are basically second in the land compared to him, aside from his brother of course."

"Prince Sevlydi?" Sarah frowned. "Does he live here?"

Sarah glanced up to the white walls of the imposing castle leaning over them as they walked through the tunnel.

"Sometimes," Terry shrugged. "Sometimes he lives in Navas City and sometimes here, sometimes he just travels."

"What's he like?"

"Have you not met him?"

"He saw me once," Sarah confessed. "At the parade. I was hiding in the crowd from You Know Who and he caught me. All I know is that he looks like his brother, but his features are less sharp. And he found something amusing about my being there."

"And he has matching eyes," Terry's brows drew together and then relaxed.

"What would you like to know?"

"Well, anything," Sarah shrugged as they approached a door in the tunnel that led to the castle. "Is he much like his brother? Vain? Cruel?"

Terry sighed. "He is similar. From what I understand and what I've seen, Prince Sevlydi has less love for the Goblin Kingdom, but is incredibly supportive of his brother. He, I think, takes life less seriously but is sometimes the rational voice in King Jareth's head- "

Terry had a faraway look in his eyes as they reached the top of the staircase they had ascended after their entry to the castle.

"He is sometimes the conscience of the King," he continued. "Perhaps not as passionate about the causes of our King, nor as reliable, but he is a good sort - for a fae."

"How is your brother by the way?"

"He is well, Stephen is well," Terry smiled as he guided her down the corridor. "He is very like me, but also very much my conscience. I've ignored him and it will probably be to my detriment."

"How so?"

He stopped in front of an ornately carved door, his hand on the handle. "I am a determined man, Sarah and have made mistakes, whilst ignoring my level headed brother and his rationality. I realise now how foolish I've been, and how much I've potentially hurt someone that I l-"

He shuddered but didn't continue.

"I'm sure whatever you've done can't be that bad," consoled Sarah.

"I didn't think so, but Se-Stephen, has almost convinced me of the opposite," Terry pushed open the door. "Though I feel like it's too late to backtrack down the path I have chosen. I just hope the person, and fate, can forgive me."

"I'd find it very hard to believe that someone wouldn't forgive you," Sarah smiled, reaching out and squeezing his arm. "You're much too nice for someone to resent you, I'm sure."

He closed his eyes and scrunched his nose as if in pain. Sarah was dying of curiosity but didn't push the issue as she was soon distracted by the room she was in.

"Is this - is this my room?" Sarah took in everything around her. Ornate wooden bed, tapestries, heavy antique looking wooden furniture in a palatial chamber with a chandelier hanging from the high ceiling. It was a vast difference from the flea ridden, rotting inn she had slept in the night before. "Is this the room I will be staying in, I mean?"

Terry nodded with a wide grin. "Technically it _is_ your room. The Champion's chamber. The castle rearranged itself when you won. Through there is the bathroom, that's the balcony and that's the library."

"Library," Sarah breathed as he indicated the different doors.

"It's small compared to the main library, but it's yours and comes complete with a study if you need it."

"You certainly know your way around the castle for a gardener," Sarah laughed running her fingers over the smooth mahogany wood of the bed baseboard.

"The goblins can be quite helpful, he muttered. "Do you like it?"

"Like the room? Yes, it is exquisite," Sarah beamed.

Terry grinned back and rushed forward towards her, checking himself at the last moment into a complete stop, only two steps away from her. His brown eyes sparkling and his smile splitting his face. She laughed at his merriment as much as her own confusion.

"Truly?" he asked. "Is this to your taste?"

Sarah glanced around at the deep reds and fine brown furnishings. "Sure, it's much nicer than anything I've ever stayed in before."

Sarah made quick use of the bathroom and then rejoined Terry to head back to the gardens. Sarah offered to help him, but he was adamant that she should enjoy the gardens. So for a few hours while he worked, she walked through the trees and little paths.

Lunchtime was a picnic under the same willow-like tree she had dozed off under. It was simple sandwiches and cakes but delicious and sustaining.

Taking an apple, she resumed her walk through the gardens, making sure she could still see Terry working wherever she went. He worked hard, digging and turning the earth, a light sheen of sweat covered his face, neck and forearms. Sarah had never seen him look so attractive. She wondered if she should recommend a dip in the water to cool down. She suppressed her shudder of longing.

A few days later, the late afternoon found Sarah staring at the carving again. Something about it attracted her and kept bringing her back every day while she had been here. Her fingers ran over the abalone infused pearls, linking the two creatures together. Something within her settled, like the feeling of arriving home after weeks away, or snuggling under a blanket on a cold winter's day.

The castle had become very homely for her. The bed was unquestionably the most comfortable bed she had ever slept in. The bathroom was out of a Home and Garden: Fantasy Edition magazine. She had no regrets avoiding the flea ridden inn. The goblins were scarce but helpful when needed. Breakfast appeared magically every morning in her room. She was in the lap of luxury.

* * *

Her days were spent in Terry's company, watching him work or being shown the different gardens and enjoying picnics together. It had been a highly enjoyable few days. Still Terry avoided any overtures or overt displays of affection. The occasional touch here and there, but no kiss nor even a brief hug.

Her fingers glanced against the owl, when she heard footsteps behind her. She spun around to see Terry sweeping branches away with his arm. His eyes wavered on her face before darting to the tree. His eyes narrowed as he took in the carving, before flitting back to Sarah's face.

She felt the "home" feeling intensify as they exchanged looks.

"What is this?" he asked, the muscles in his jaw twitching as he clenched his teeth together.

"I'm guessing a carving," Sarah frowned. "Looks like an owl, some pearls and a person to me."

"You didn't do this?" Terry questioned.

"No of course not," Sarah scowled. "I am not about mindless destruction despite my history."

Terry gave her a tepid look, before stepping closer to the tree. He ran his fingers over the carving much like she had done. As his fingers ran over the pearls, Sarah felt a sensation run through her, like a burgeoning warmth. It was so strong she actually stumbled back.

Terry tore his eyes away from the carving to look at her. "Sarah are you alright?"

"Someone just walked over my grave," she mumbled, wrapping her arms around herself. "What do you think this carving means?"

"Does it mean something to you?" Terry raised a brow.

"Not really," Sarah shrugged. "The owl - I saw the owl at the end of my Labyrinth run. It's the Goblin King, isn't it? But nothing else means anything."

"You don't recognise this figure?"

"No."

"Do you recognise these pearls? Have you seen them before?" Terry prodded.

"Not at all," Sarah squinted at the pearls and shook her head. "They're just pearls aren't they?"

Terry just cleared his throat and left the grove of trees. "I think we should go and have some dinner."

Dinner was a quiet affair sitting at the wooden table of the castle kitchen. Terry seemed lost in thought or possibly mad at her in regards to the carving.

"Is everything alright?" she inquired.

"Yes, my dear," he gave a weak smile. "I was just thinking about that carving. It is unusual."

"How so?"

"The owl is, as you say, representative of the Goblin King and the pearls - they're possibly a link to the Stolen Pearls. I have never seen it before, in all my years gardening. I wonder how it got there."

He shoveled a spoonful of soup into his mouth and stared off into the middle distance again.

"Why did you think I had something to do with it?" Sarah asked after a pause.

"Oh I didn't, not really," he sighed. "I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking straight when I saw - "

"What do we have here?" a dulcet, crystal clear, English-sounding accent, with a tinge of amusement, said from behind Sarah's seat. Had they been caught?

* * *

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This chapter was originally much longer but the next half will be a new chapter. It's complete and just needs editing. Hopefully I can do that before Friday. 
> 
> Thank you to my reviewers and followers. :D 


	11. Chapter Ten

CHAPTER 10

_"What do we have here?" a dulcet, crystal clear, English-sounding accent, with a tinge of amusement, said from behind Sarah's seat. Had they been caught?_

Jareth glanced at Sarah's stricken face, simultaneously adorned with shock, guilt and embarrassment. She hadn't yet turned around to acknowledge the intruder in their midst. He could tell by her reaction, her wide eyes and her flaring nostrils that she was expecting _him_ , as the King, to be standing behind her.

He had to put her out of her misery.

"Your Highness," he greeted his brother, not Stephen, but Sevlydi had stumbled upon their dinner date. He stood up realising he would have to kowtow to his brother; a mere prince when he was a King. Did Sevlydi think he had so much pride that he would give up the game just to avoid bowing to him?

Not a chance. He bowed, shallow and cursory before he stared down at his brother. Sevlydi wore a self-congratulatory, superior look, before turning to his paramour to watch her instead. Sarah had slowly twisted her head to see that it was Sevlydi and her shoulders slumped in relief at her discovery.

Jareth's jaw twitched at the realisation that his true-self still made her apprehensive and skittish. He didn't know how much longer he could put on this charade as he watched her stand and dip into a slight curtsey.

"Your Highness," she mumbled, fidgeting with the ends of her hair as she watched Sevlydi inclining casually against the doorframe.

"Sarah, this is Prince Sevlydi, the Goblin King's youngest brother," Jareth offered. "Your Highness, this is Sarah Williams, the Champion of the Labyrinth."

"It is a pleasure to finally meet you," Sevlydi leant low and kissed the back of Sarah's hand. Jareth felt a rush of jealousy speed through him. "I have heard many things from my brother, the King."

Sarah immediately paled.

"Only good things, I assure you," he amended, grinning widely. "I am sure he would be disappointed to miss the opportunity to see you here, in _his_ castle. Perhaps I should call him?"

"I am sure that is unnecessary," Jareth spat out. "Your Highness."

Jareth was finding it harder to pretend to be Terry when faced with his brother, undisguised. He loathed having to pay the proper respects to his heir when it was _his_ due. He was King. This was wrong, so wrong. He gritted his teeth and stood up straighter. He was doing this for Sarah as she was worth becoming a slave for if he ultimately won her. Even if he didn't win her, she was worth the sacrifice of his pride. However, he didn't humour any doubt he would win her. Doubt had no place in the psyche of a fae. Uncertainty had crept in, with the advent of Sarah, but doubt would hold no water with him. He would win her, and his pride would be the price if needs be.

That thought stunned him. He knew he was determined to gain her as his wife. He had the pearl take all the guesswork out for him, which made his job easier than having to select someone himself. He hadn't counted on _wanting_ her as his wife. But having spent so much time with her, he knew that he both wanted and needed her, and not just to fulfil the pearl prophecy or as a means to avoid marrying Forsythia.

He enjoyed her company and lapped up any moment he spent with her. He had moved past denial and now was adamant his feelings were strong. Certainly strong enough that he would contemplate giving up his kingship to make her happy. Not enough he could face telling her the truth about Terry, however.

He knew he had to, but the more time she spent with him, the more strenuous it became to end the deceit. He was stuck between a rock and a hard place. He couldn't act in this charade forever, but he didn't want to risk losing her. An unfamiliar feeling swept over him.

Despair; a close cousin to doubt.

He was going to lose her when she realised how he had lied to her. He needed a new plan. He had to go and think. Without further ado, he rose, excused himself and wished Sarah a good night.

Both the face of his brother and his love were marred with expressions of confusion at his abrupt departure. It couldn't be helped. He leant down and kissed Sarah on the top of her head, inhaling her sweet scent and relishing in her slight shiver that ran through her body. If only she responded to him like that when he wasn't glamoured as someone else.

"Off so soon?" Sevlydi queried. "I don't believe I have dismissed you from my presence."

Jareth groaned internally. Oh, how he was going to punish his brother when he could be himself again! He didn't have a reputation for being cruel, for nothing.

"My lady here has the rank of Labyrinth Champion, and you're a Prince," Jareth reasoned with mock humility. "I am not worthy to be in such proximity to either of you."

The words tasted like acid that burnt his mouth, but his brother wouldn't mistake his words for honesty, matched with the scathing look he was giving his youngest brother.

"Terry, my rank is inconsequential," Sarah murmured. "Please don't go."

Her voice was edged with plaintive need. He peered into her deep green eyes, wide with a sincere plea. Being wanted by her, even as Terry, and not 'Jareth' was enough to set him aflame. He couldn't deny her.

"Anything for you," he whispered into her ear. A small smile shaped her mouth cementing in his mind, that she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. And he had seen crystal unicorns and Rainbow phoenixes. It seems to him at that moment the words he uttered when she was a teenager, " _I move the stars for No one,_ " had proven false. He'd move the stars for her. The stars had no business being admired by someone with ten times their beauty and enticement.

He moved to sit down by Sarah when Sevlydi indicated they were free to be at ease in his royal presence. His hand found her hand and he wove his fingers between hers. She returned the affection with a slight squeeze.

They finished their meal in silence while Sevlydi sat opposite them at the table, watching the pair of them as he peeled grapes, popping them into his mouth with a pointed look after each bite.

"My brother would be so interested to know that a mere gardener is trying to woo the Lady of the Labyrinth," Sevlydi broke the silence, tacking on a smirk at the end of his speech. He licked his lips and bared his teeth. "I think I should call him. Do you think he'd be pleased with your attention on his property?"

Sarah spluttered. "Property? I am no one's property, least of all his."

Jareth glared at his brother, pressing Sarah's hand reassuringly within his grip.

"Lady Sarah is correct, Your Highness," Jareth said through gritted teeth. "She is no one's property and His Majesty, the Goblin King, has no prior claim - "

"Is that what you think, is it?" Sevlydi grinned. "Well, I have news for you. He has a claim. A strong one. Have you ever heard of Prophecy Pearls or Bride Pearls?"

Sarah shook her head, then turned away from his brother to attend to him. Jareth amped up his death stare at his brother. He was struggling to remain submissive with Sevlydi pushing the boundaries.

"They predict who they're going to marry," he picked up some cheese on the end of his knife, twirled it around before placing the morsel in his mouth. "Guess who the Pearl predicted King Jareth would marry?"

Sarah laughed. "You're kidding me, right? Do you think I'm destined to marry your King based on a fortune-telling pearl? The lot of you are fucked up, you know that?"

Groaning internally, Jareth maintained his glower at his brother. Why on earth was he telling Sarah about the pearl? Even if- not if - _when_ he married her, he still didn't want her knowing about the pearl. She would only upset her human sensibilities and question his motives.

Sevlydi's smile slid off his face and he became very stern. "You dare speak to a royal that way? You insolent child. I should have you thrown in an oubliette for your treasonous mouth."

"Enough!" Jareth bellowed. Some part of him, some very small, but very powerful part of him, could not tolerate any stain smeared on his wife's honour. "Your issue is with me, not Lady Sarah."

Sevlydi's eyes narrowed dangerously. He produced a crystal, and twirling it between two fingers, he called Jareth's name.

"You've left me no choice, _Terry_."

"Sarah, let's go," Jareth stood up and grabbed Sarah's arm, sensing how flustered she was at the situation as she looked between the two of them.

"You'll be in a world of trouble when my brother arrives," Sevlydi growled.

He ignored his brother. Sevlydi will be the one in the world of trouble. He led Sarah out of the kitchen towards her room. He was seething. It was one thing to force his humility, it was quite another to try and goad him into revealing his true identity.

"I thought the King knew I was here, why are we running away?" Sarah puffed. "Not that I want to see him, but isn't this futile if the Prince has called him? He'll find us."

"I just had to get you out of there, Sarah," he didn't stop steering her towards her suite, but as they gained distance between them and his sibling, he started slowing down.

"Terry, did you just shout at a member of the royal family?" Sarah asked with glee, as they slowed their pace. "Did I just swear at him?"

"I did," he confessed. "I must beg your pardon for all of that, Sarah."

"It's not your fault, Terry," she shrugged. "He was provoking you, unsurprisingly for a typical relation of that pompous goblin git."

"No doubt," Jareth responded, bitterly.

"Anyway, he is wrong about everything, but especially that the Goblin King has any prior claim to me," Sarah continued. "And if he was right about you wanting to woo me then I am open to the possibility."

Hearing the words uttered from her mouth that she wanted to be wooed by him, froze his heart, caused his stomach to plummet and his mind to draw a blank. He couldn't say yes but he couldn't hurt her by saying no. He wanted so deeply to woo her. But as _Jareth_. He decided right then that his new plan of action was to kill off "Terry." Terry had to break her heart, and Jareth could return to pick up the pieces. She never needed to know they were the same person.

The other thing that had consumed him was that carving Sarah had found. Where had it come from? Why was it that Sarah of all people found it? It was transparent to him that it was a visual representation of the prophecy: the barn owl was him, the human figure was Sarah, and they were connected by the string of pearls. The interpretation was straight forward; a reminder to fulfil the prophecy. **How** the carving existed was the question he prioritised. He was grateful that Sarah hadn't recognised the figure as herself, though coupled with Sevlydi's hints about the pearl prophecy, he knew it wouldn't be long before she was joining the dots. He hadn't meant to get irritated with her, but his confusion had leaked out before his self-awareness had kicked in.

Sev telling her he was destined to marry her, was also cause for alarm. Sarah would be easily spooked by information on that front. He had to get a move on. Otherwise, he'd end up married to Forsythia. He wasn't sure destiny liked to be cheated out of its prize by the fae. And Bridal Pearls, as Briyash had explained, had come at such a cost to the Mythical Creatures Council, as well as fae fertility rates. He couldn't disregard the sacrosanctity of the Stolen Pearls. Especially not in his line of work.

They had arrived at her suite; the suite that she seemed enamoured with. Jareth couldn't have been happier that she appreciated her rooms. They were designed with her in mind, of course. The Labyrinth had done most of the grunt work, but he had the vision.

Terry had relished her response whilst as Jareth, he could not.

With all this in mind, he turned to her with as much harshness as he could muster and answered her proposition.

"No Sarah, you are very mistaken if you think I have any feelings for you whatsoever," he followed with a malicious laugh, akin to that of the Goblin King. "I have no desire to woo you. You've been nothing but a distraction for me but now it would be best if we ceased spending time with one another."

Sarah's face fell momentarily but hardened immediately. He knew she wouldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing her cry. Not that it would give him any satisfaction. He didn't want to see her cry. He didn't want to _make_ her cry. It was a necessary evil. He had to win her as himself. Terry needed to be dead and buried.

"Sometimes we can say hard truths without being callous," Sarah said in a high-pitched, cloying voice that reminded Jareth of a mother scolding a child in public. He deserved to be spoken down to like a child. It was time to hammer the final nail in.

"Sometimes women are too thick to grasp the truth behind a rejection, and keep persisting for more," Jareth swallowed the lump that was forming in his throat as he saw tears forming in her emerald eyes.

She swiped them away and laughed bitterly. "Yes, I was completely stupid to ever trust a male again. Thank you for showing me the light."

"Did you honestly think I was in any way interested in you?" Jareth scoffed.

"It doesn't matter now does it?" Sarah shrugged. "I am not going to try and convince you that I mean more to you than I do. I deserve _**more**_ than that. I **am** more than that. Goodbye, Terry."

Sarah spun on her heel and departed into her bedroom. Jareth felt all the air leave his lungs. He hoped he had made the right decision. Not that he doubted himself...

* * *

It was hours later. He sat upon his throne after having dealt with his brother. He had been too weary to rally too much anger at his brother.

His brother's defence had consisted of the insistence that Jareth ends the charade. Whispers of his relationship with Rica were floating around Rica's town. He was angry at having his lover jeopardised, and it had made him antagonistic. Jareth informed his brother that he had dispensed with Terry, and he should try harder to like Sarah. Sevlydi only responded with expletives, exclamations and allusions to getting married quicker.

Jareth had told Sevlydi he would deal with him later, leaving the Prince to mope in seclusion upon his throne, his head in his hand, his legs tossed haphazardly across the arms of the chair.

He looked up at the sound of someone entering the throne room to see Sarah standing there, her mouth in a little 'o' of surprise, tear stains on her rosy cheeks tracking down from her puffy, red eyes.

He swallowed his trepidation upon seeing her shocked face. Realisation clattered around him like thunder and lightning in a storm.

She was no longer seeing him in disguise.

* * *

As soon as Sarah had closed her door, she collapsed in tears. Terry had turned from this man she had slowly been falling for, despite her misgivings, into a cruel, calculating arsehole. He had blown up at the King's brother, and then a flick of a switch had cruelly mocked her feelings. She'd have expected that from the King, not from Terry, the sweet, kind man that she had enjoyed the company of, for months now.

She had wondered if he was saving her from some kind of pain by speaking to her so harshly. Things weren't always what they seem. Perhaps he had been bewitched or bullied into treating her thus, but rationally, she could not excuse his behaviour. Her days of forgiving other people's cowardice or selfishness used against her were over. She very much doubted it was some conspiracy where he truly loved her but had to make her hate him to save her life or something. She wasn't in a movie or a novel. Though, the fantastical aspects of her life would beg to differ.

No-one had a chance to threaten him since leaving the kitchen, so she could cross that possibility off her list. The hopeful side of her still nudged the idea tentatively throughout her grief.

Her confusion, embarrassment, and disappointment warred for superiority in her feelings. She cried for what felt like a few hours before moving off the floor and climbing into the soft sheets of the bed. Anger won out. He didn't deserve her tears if he could be so callous.

She had drifted off and upon waking was flooded with her memories. Her tears started afresh and her stomach tied itself in knots.

She looked through bleary eyes to a necklace Terry had gifted her the day before. It was a single pearl, shimmering with green and purple, on a silver chain. He had given it to her in friendship. It now seemed like a cruel mockery. The pearl reminded her of the pearls in the carving. That carving now filled her with alarm.

Prince Sevlydi had said pearls could predict who one was going to marry; that a pearl had predicted she would marry the Goblin King. It was completely absurd, of course, but she seemed to be surrounded by the pearl motif. Stolen Pearls were children but the tears of mythical creatures, also. Tears that had been stolen and buried in caves around the Underground.

It was unlikely the Goblin King had any plans to marry her. Agreeing to marry him was impossible. Yet there was a small part of her that wasn't completely repulsed by the idea. A traitorous part that she squashed every time it reared its head. It was her libido speaking.

Sarah had to find her way back to Ghent. She pulled her aching body out of the warm, comforting bed and gathered her belongings. On silent feet, she plodded down the cold, stone corridors towards the central vestibule. The corridors obnoxiously changed on her and soon she was hopelessly lost.

She took a turn hoping for the best and walked into the throne room. Deserted, dark, and empty save for a figure slouched over the throne. At first, she thought it was Terry from his aura, but it was not.

It was the Goblin King.

He looked up as she uttered a small gasp. His face was a mixture of surprise and sadness. But before she could react to either expression, a mask of indifference slipped over and he untangled his lithe body to stand up and slowly approach her in his feline-like manner.

"Lady Sarah, forgive me for not properly welcoming you just now," he said, his voice soft and pleasant. "I have just arrived and didn't expect to see you until the morrow."

"You - you knew I was here?" She stumbled over her words as he now stood mere metres away from her. She grasped her bag in front of her with both hands in defence.

"Of course," he nodded. "You're very welcome as the Champion of the Labyrinth. Nothing goes on in my castle without my knowledge."

Sarah managed a half-hearted "oh."

"I hope your suite was to your liking?"

A nod.

"Excellent," he paused and looked away from her towards something Sarah couldn't see. "You're not leaving are you?"

"I have to," Sarah's voice wobbled.

"You do not," he replied softly. "You have every right to -"

"It isn't about rights, I have to go," Sarah closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "I thank you for your consideration."

"Please, you do not have to be so polite with me," he smirked. "Am I not your villain?"

Sarah gaped as he paced in front of her.

"Do not let that gardener dull your sharp blade, Sarah," he continued, practically spitting out the word gardener. "He isn't worthy of your affections."

"Ha," Sarah scoffed. "I sincerely doubt anyone is."

"I hope you continue to think so well of yourself," another smirk, a few more paced steps. "However, I happen to agree. Despite our antagonistic relationship, I do hope you do well for yourself, whether in marriage or life in general."

Sarah bit the inside of her mouth but continued to make eye contact with the mercurial fae. She had never seen him like this before.

"If I didn't know better, I'd say you're possessed right now," Sarah cocked a brow. "The last time we met, you obliged me in a dance against my will. I trust this side of you even less."

"And it was wrong of me," he sighed. "Yet, you forgave Hoggle once for his betrayals. I can only dream that you forgive me for my transgressions. I know they are huge and many."

Sarah shifted from foot to foot. "I'm not in the forgiveness business any longer."

Fresh tears leaked from her eyes. The King nodded, his blonde hair shimmering slightly in the moonlit chamber.

"I probably don't deserve it," he agreed. "But perhaps I could earn it?"

"How?" Sarah shrugged as the cold seeped through her garments, forcing her to hug her bag to find some warmth. Jareth noticed her discomfort, for, in the next moment he swirled a crystal and a warm fur blanket appeared from the ether.

"For your warmth, My Lady," he drawled, holding the white and tan blanket out to her. With an air of reluctance, she reached out for it.

"It's so soft," Sarah sniffed as she wrapped it around her. It was the softest blanket she had ever felt.

"Barn owl feathers," the King's lips twitched. "Soft, warm, _and_ waterproof."

Sarah frowned. "Yours?"

"Indeed," the corners of Jareth's mouth curled. "Supplemented by my brethren and the one lady owl who -"

"Who?" Sarah prompted.

"Who I used to have a relationship with aeons ago," Jareth finished. "She was a druid and took many forms. I don't suppose she ever took the barn owl form before, or after we were lovers."

"My husband couldn't even turn down the bed, let alone turn into an owl," Sarah found herself saying, almost forgetting who she was talking to; her enemy. Sarah had been reeling about how strange it was to have a conversation with the King, to have it topped off with a discussion on ex-lovers left her almost in shock.

"Alas, all I can manage is the owl," Jareth resumed pacing. "I hope it is not a disappointment to you."

Sarah's brow creased in consternation. "I have little to no expectations of you, Your Majesty," Sarah muttered, throwing his historic words back at him.

He hummed and crossed his arms, stopping his pacing directly in front of her.

"Lady Sarah," he said, almost formally. "I have asked you to stay and not to leave right now. Not only because it is the middle of the night, but for your safety. While you have my protection as Labyrinth Champion, it is not flawless. I am aware that your presence Underground is against your will but those that brought you here would not simply give up."

Sarah pulled the blanket tighter around herself as if it could save her from this discussion, but reluctantly she nodded. He returned her acceptance with an inclination of his head.

"You may not trust me, and you'd be correct to mistrust a fae," he closed his eyes briefly and then turned his mismatched stare back to her. "But I can not harm you even if I wished it. You're safe here and if you still wish to leave, come dawn, I will personally escort you safely back to wherever you want to go."

"Wherever I want to go?" Sarah's interest was piqued, thinking of the Aboveground, thinking of Toby.

He sighed again. "I can send you back to your world if you wish, but be aware you're different now than when you arrived. The Labyrinth and the Underground have already started weaving its magic into you."

"What does that mean?" her voice laced with disappointment; the dying embers of hope.

"You have already begun to slow your ageing, and your innate powers will eventually grow stronger."

"Powers?"

"Stay," he repeated. "And we can discuss more in the morning. You're fatigued enough as it is with what that gardener - "

She had almost forgotten about Terry.

 _Forget about the baby_.

"That's the reason I have to go."

"Sarah," he said firmly. "He isn't here. He has left to return to his village. After what he did -"

"He didn't do anything so incredibly bad," Sarah said.

"He reprimanded a royal Prince," Jareth pointed out.

"Oh yeah, that," Sarah coloured at the very fact that she had committed a similar crime. Her first thought was Jareth considered what Terry had done to her, as a reason to have left. Why would he care what Terry had done to her?

"And then he decided to reject the advances of my Champion," he said in a quieter voice.

Sarah was floored. ' _Colour me shocked',_ she thought as he spoke.

"And we can't have that," he continued.

"Why not? Why do you care who rejects me or not?"

"Because you're the only Labyrinth Champion in history," he replied like it was evident. "I may have been angry and resentful for many years after you defeated us both, but I have matured in these years, and I admire your courage and determination, that's rarely seen amongst my kind. Right now, you are but a mere shadow of your former self, and he doesn't deserve to be the one that has hurt you."

His honesty rang in her ears before it truly settled in her mind. Did he admire her? Or did he want to be the one that hurt her? A burgeoning ache pounded in her head.

"You can't muster the energy to be angry with me," he shrugged. "You've always been passionate, Sarah. Don't let him kill your fire."

"I would never attribute a man with that power over me," Sarah bit back.

"That's more like it," he clapped cheerfully. "It's no fun arguing with someone in the grips of misery. You may as well be Higgle, and you're worth more than that, Sarah."

"Oh, do shut up about Hoggle," Sarah snapped. Not only was he mispronouncing his name, but undervaluing her friend too.

His head fell back as he roared in laughter. "I shall take you to see him while you're here if you like. I bet your gardener never even bothered to mention him to you in your three days with him."

They stared at each other in silence for a moment or two. Was he jealous of Terry? Was Sevlydi correct that Jareth believed he had a claim over her? Was Terry scared off? She took a deep breath and gave these thoughts no more standing room. If Terry had been scared off by an imaginary marriage claim, then he wasn't the man for her.

"Let me take you back to your rooms," he indicated with a gloved hand, towards the doorway she was still standing in.

"I can find my way back on my own," Sarah growled.

"I very much doubt you can right now," Jareth grinned. "The Castle is in one of her moods and keeps changing. I am sure you never intended to end up here."

"No actually, I was trying to make my way to the gardens, there is a tree that I was planning on seeing one last time before I left."

"Interesting," Jareth rubbed his chin. "You can show me this tree tomorrow. Now come on, you're dead on your feet; we have an action-packed day tomorrow."

Sarah wanted to put up a fight but could only muster a grunt. She wouldn't show him the tree, however. Why did she even mention it?

"Hate me in the morning, precious," he smiled his toothy grin again. "I will still be here for you to hate. Besides, you'll have more energy when you are well-rested."

She snickered, but let him lead the way to her suite. Even letting him carry her bag. At the door, he stopped and stepped back. She reached for the doorknob as his arm stretched out, touching her hand.

"I'd also like you to meet my brother, properly this time," Jareth said. "If you will."

"Sure, what's one extra family member of yours, hating me?" Sarah shook off his hand and continued to open the door. She was just about safe on the other side when she swore she heard him say, he didn't hate her.

* * *

Jareth retired to bed after ensuring Sarah was safely ensconced in her suite. He summoned a crystal and sent it floating through his window towards where Sarah resided. The spell he used would hopefully let her have a night of fully restorative sleep.

He also decided he would give her a couple of days to acclimatise to Terry's absence without inflicting his presence on her. He hoped she would stay and not escape in his absence.

He took a deep breath, remembering how as Terry, she had melded her body with his in dance or an embrace. He no longer wished to deny his attraction to her.

His body started responding as he imagined her fiery green eyes communicating with his icy blues. It was almost like her green flames melted his cold, hard blue ice every time they made contact; in more ways than one. He always had a hardened exterior and she was solely responsible for wanting to reveal his softer interior; his weaknesses.

Right now it was a specific part of his exterior that was hardened. He ran his hand down his soft, silky nightclothes until he brushed up against the peak in his trousers. He groaned in the back of his throat as he imagined lying with Sarah. He hadn't remained celibate for this long in his entire life and he missed sexual contact. He'd had both male and female lovers before. The males he had slept with were, of course, secret, illicit, purely sexual affairs. Unlike his brother, love had not been a factor for him.

If the High Council knew what he was doing right now, would he be punished like a royal taking a same-sex lover? How was this any different than having sex with a male lover? Neither act would or could result in children; the reason same-sex relationships for royals were banned unless married. Utter delusion. Maybe he should ask them to ban masturbation too. Perhaps they'd see the derisiveness of their rules if they also weren't allowed to wank.

He had been stroking his cock on the outside of his pants, now he slipped his hand inside, feeling skin on skin for the first time. He inhaled deeply as he wrapped his hand around his thick shaft, slowly moving his fist up and down, a slight twist as he reached the head.

Images of Sarah laughing, dancing or gazing at him flashed through his mind as his hand moved faster and his breathing became erratic. The image reel of Sarah pressed hard against his body or dancing sensuously around the bonfire sent pulses through his entire iron-hard penis. He wondered if he would ever get to feel her skin against his if he finally made love to her.

Making love was a term he had never used before until he started thinking about Sarah. Now he had met Sarah it could never be anything less between them. Nothing fast and tawdry for the two of them, like so many of his past affairs. Even the druid who had been his longest relationship, he couldn't consider what they had done together, making love.

He groaned and thrust his hips up into his hand, using his thumb to rub the beads of liquid around the head, his free hand cupping his balls. His back arching, he shouted out Sarah's name as his hand moved faster and his cock spasmed, spurting cum all over his black silk nightclothes and his bare midriff. He groaned as his hand slowed and the last of his cum spilt onto his skin.

"Fuck you, high council," he muttered as he waved away the sticky mess with magic.

* * *

Sarah didn't see Jareth the next day as he had planned. A letter had been left to inform her he had to embark on business again for a few days. She was to stay in his castle and recover from her grief. It was an unexpected kindness. She was tempted to leave just to spite him, but couldn't muster the energy to do so.

In the two days that passed since Terry left, she had spent her days crying in her room, taking her meals in her suite, or reading in her library. She changed it up with some moping around the gardens.

Sarah woke with the dawn bird's chorus on the third day since Terry left. The soft Underground light crept through like little rivulets of gold, between the gaps in the large velvet curtains strung up over the towering windows.

She stretched and groaned before she remembered she wasn't going to be spending another carefree day with Terry. According to Jareth, her arch-enemy, Terry had rejected her and supposedly done a runner. That had been told to her by the said same fae who had kidnapped her brother, and who had possibly kidnapped her too. It was a bitter pill to swallow that Jareth was the one to tell her that the man she was falling for, had skipped town.

Every morning she'd wake and get hit with this memory. It felt different this morning. Her feelings were less intense. She knew she shouldn't have trusted Terry. Trust was a fragile spider web resting on a serrated knife edge; easily broken, hard to fix.

She reluctantly rolled out of bed to consume her breakfast that appeared every morning on the table by the giant gable windows. Today there was no food and only coffee with an envelope propped up against the tea caddy.

It was from the King asking her to join him for breakfast. He was back! She read it several more times before helping herself to her daily coffee. She sat with her knees up, looking over the Labyrinth through the windows, as she contemplated her situation. She knew that her feelings of despair and despondency should feel more immense than they did. The vestiges of anger had melted with the third dawn.

She had lost Terry, yet she couldn't help but feel oddly intrigued by the Goblin King. He had been so different that night. Almost Terry-like in his manner. She wasn't going to let herself be duped, despite being piqued by his change in attitude towards her.

The feather blanket still rested on the armchair next to her bed. It has been an unprecedented kindness from the man who had danced with her twice against her will.

She still didn't trust him.

With her coffee finished and her morning ablutions completed, she made her way to the dining hall where he had asked to meet her.

The door swung open on her arrival and Prince Sevlydi looked up from his seat to watch her inch her way across the room.

"His Majesty didn't think you would come," he raised his eyebrows.

"I was in two minds," she confessed, wondering if she would have to curtsey to him. That question was answered in the next instant when he waved his hand and reminded her to observe her courtesies.

"No, Sev," came Jareth's voice. "The Lady is all but our equal. She yields to no man."

Sarah turned to face her enemy and was surprised to see a sincere smile smooth the tight lines of his chiselled face. "Good morning, Sarah. I trust you slept well."

Sarah nodded returning her gaze to Sevlydi who wore a bemused expression. "You surprise me, brother."

"She is the Labyrinth's Champion, moreover I am the King and I will not be questioned, Sevlydi."

"No, no, no, of course not," Sevlydi took a sip of his tea and turned his eyes back to Sarah. "So the gardener ran off when the going got tough. Tell me, will you be doing the same?"

"I'm not sure I understand."

"Oh, you will in time," he smirked.

"Forgive my brother," Jareth pulled out a seat for Sarah and indicated she should sit down. "Deep down, he is thrilled you're here."

"So thrilled," he smirked again.

Sarah started nibbling on her breakfast, finding the tension in the room too palpable for her tastes.

"So today we will go and visit your friends, Sarah," Jareth attempted to break the taut silence.

"Thank you," she mumbled into her spoon.

"Oh, come on," Sevlydi threw his spoon down. "My brother, the King, gives up his time to potter around with your traitorous friends, and that's all you have to say for yourself?"

"Sevlydi" a warning tone. "Sarah doesn't owe me anything. She is the Champion for her merit furthermore she need not feel obliged to me. And did you not once argue with me on this very point? Kindness or love is not and should never be an obligation."

Sarah was strongly reminded of Stephen and Terry arguing over the song about the King who lamented his lost love. She felt a pang at her loss of Terry.

"I happen to be grateful to see my friends," Sarah chipped in. "I am however dealing with an overabundance of things to take in and absorb. So forgive me if I can't kiss the ground you walk on right now."

"I don't expect you to," Jareth replied, inclining his head to her. Sarah arched her brows in surprise. He was acting so unusually favourable towards her with no snark or mocking tones. Unlike his brother. It is feasible that it just felt polite in comparison.

Sevlydi scoffed. "You have spent your entire life expecting everyone to bow and scrape. What makes this mortal chit any different?"

"Excuse me?" Sarah scowled.

"I will let her speak for herself," Jareth relented, leaning back in his chair. "What makes you special, precious?"

Sarah was beginning to think this was a huge setup. "I am the only one to ever beat the Labyrinth for starters."

"Yes? Please do continue," Sevlydi rested his elbows across the table and cocked his head; a head that was so strikingly similar to Jareth's but well-kempt and tamed, tied in a black ribbon and two matching blue eyes piercing her. She found the similarities unnerving, but the contrast made Jareth's face more appealing to her.

"I have a university degree and have - _had_ plans to start my masters."

"Yawn, boringly mundane, mortal trite," he interrupted. "Tell me, why my brother, a King, should go to so much trouble for a mere mortal when he could be married to a fae by now."

Frowning, Sarah waved a hand in confusion.

"Tell me why you're worth the ire of the High Council breathing down our necks. Tell me, no show me why you are worth us risking the displeasure of our sibling overlords."

Sarah paled, her eyes finding Jareth's wide-open stare before his eyes narrowed at his brother.

"Enough, Sev," he said in flat tones.

Why was her being in the Castle, risking anyone's displeasure? What did Jareth's marriage to a fae have to do with her? Wasn't he just saying yesterday that Jareth had a claim on her? But now she was standing in the way of a fae marriage? Was that what he was referring to? Sarah was NOT sure why she needed to prove herself. She prepared to tell him she was not sure she understood what he was referring to.

"I'm not-" she begun.

"No, you are not, " Sevlydi replied, fiercely pushing himself out of his chair before he stalked out of the room.

"Well, that went well," Sarah grimaced as the door slammed. "Clearly, talking in riddles and dramatic flair is a family trait. Be sure to introduce me to the rest of your family too."

"He is a petulant child, Sarah," Jareth dipped his spoon in and out of his porridge. He wasn't rising to her bait. "Worse than yours truly. Ignore everything he says. He has a score to settle with me and he's taking it out on you. And for what it is worth, while he belittles education, I hold it in the highest respect."

"He seems to think - " Sarah was about to divulge Sevlydi's implications of matrimony between the two. However curious she was regarding the pearl theory, she wasn't going to bring it up. "It's not important."

"No, it is not," Jareth agreed. "He will come around though."

"I don't know why you'd care," Sarah shrugged. "I'm the mortal chit that beat your Labyrinth, destroyed your city and then rej- "

She stopped herself before she reminded him of her rejection of his offer, glancing around as if she could pull another topic of conversation out of thin air.

"Yet here we are having breakfast under the same roof, and you've been almost cordial."

"Yet, here we are," he nodded. "I thank you for agreeing to stay. I thought you were too proud."

"Not proud enough to stumble blindly, with tears in my eyes, into the wilderness to try and find my way home. And a couple of days' respite has helped sort my mind and emotions out before heading back to the Cottage."

Her pride couldn't stand to return to the Spriggets earlier than planned. Now Jareth was back, she'd have to leave again.

"When you're ready to return home, I will summon a cart, or I can transport you by magic, whatever you prefer," he waved his hand in dismissal. "But I was planning on hosting a ball for my Champion's return, and would be most grateful if you could stay."

"A ball? In my honour?"

"Indeed," he smiled. "We have had a rough start to our acquaintance but I hope that we can make amends."

"I have to ask again, but why?"

"You're my Champion," he grinned, splaying his hands in a convivial gesture. "Not everyone has that honour, and you're more an asset to my Kingdom than a detriment."

"How so?"

"Innate powers," he twirled his spoon, hands-free, levitated by magic. "The Labyrinth bequeathed you certain powers. You could be used against me, in the hands of the wrong person."

"Is that why I was kidnapped Underground?"

"I can only surmise."

Sarah lowered her head and stared into her lap. "I guess that makes sense."

"Sarah," he placed his hand flat on the table, the spoon clattering back into the bowl. "I don't think you'd welcome anymore, let's say, personal reasons why I am glad you are here. But hopefully, this ball will mark the start of friendship but at the very, least peace between us."

"I see."

"I would be remiss if I didn't take this opportunity to apologise for our last encounters, especially the dances where your will was compromised."

"The Goblin King is apologising," Sarah scoffed. "Now I know I must be dreaming."

"You're not dreaming."

"What happened to you being the King and it's your will that I dance with you?"

"I was a fool," he admitted. "Again I was living up to your expectations, against my better judgement. You expect me to be the villain of your story, so I am.

_Everything I have done, I have done for you._

"I am trying to be myself with you, and I'm afraid I am making you even more distrustful of me in the process."

"Yourself? Are you telling me you're not an arrogant, pompous, vain, self-centred, hair-obsessed pain-in-the-arse?"

"No, I am all that and always will be," Jareth gave a toothy grin. "You forgot to mention attractive and desirable."

"Ah, there we go," Sarah returned his smile, despite herself. "That's the Goblin King that we all know and lo- know."

Did she nearly say, love? Did she just forget who she was talking to? He didn't seem to notice.

"Tell me you don't find me attractive and desirable, Sarah," he prodded.

"I don't find you -"

"Like you mean it," he shifted in his seat, crossing his legs over the other. "Because I desire you and find you incredibly attractive, Sarah. Does that offend you?"

"Of course it does," Sarah laughed without mirth. "You've apologised for dancing with me but nothing else. You could be my kidnapper or have a hand in my kidnapping, for all I know. But then what I do know is enough. You kidnapped my brother, set the cleaners on me, bullied my friend into betraying me, somehow scared my friend Terry off and now you expect me to tell you that I'm attracted to you?"

"I see we're still not taking responsibility for our actions," he growled. "Did you learn nothing in the Labyrinth?"

A heavy silence fell over them. Sarah pushed her breakfast away from her with a huff.

"You still grieve for Terry?" he asked, his tone still combatant.

"He was my truest friend and confidant in this awful place," Sarah confessed. "And just like that he turns on me and scarpers. So yes, I still grieve. I've lost an ally, a friend, and someone who I thought I could - "

"What? Love?" Jareth prompted.

Sarah just glared at him and looked away.

"I woke up less sad than I should have been this morning," Sarah mumbled. "I don't understand how he just turned. And I don't understand why I'm still not angry about it. It's like the memories are there, but they don't hurt as much as they should. It's like having a broken leg, but you can only feel a twinge. I grieve but not as I should. Not like I was only yesterday, and the two days prior, since he left."

"Thank you for your candour," he nodded, steepling his fingers in front of his face as he assessed her. Sarah was reminded of Terry thanking her for her honesty when they first met. Why did she struggle with filters around these men? She just pours her heart out like she can't help it. And this was the Goblin King; her sworn enemy.

"Tell me," Sarah tapped on the edge of the table with a finger. "Why did I just tell you all that?"

Lips twitching, he lowered his hands and leant forward. "Perhaps you desire to have me as a friend as well. Perhaps you see me as a replacement."

"I highly doubt that," Sarah scoffed. "You're a kidnapping, manipulative, arrogant sod, and Terry was a sweet, kind, gentle, respectful soul. His one flaw was that he gave way too much credence to the monarchy."

"His one flaw, Sarah, by your own account is that he led you on a merry dance and then rejected you when you confessed your feelings. Does sound rather familiar, I have to say."

Snapping her head up, she scowled at him. "That's not the same at all."

"No, not at all," he muttered sardonically. "Yet, you coveted that little red book; the book that is instinctively connected to me. Long before I met you, I could feel you every time you read that story. I could feel you twisting through the very fibres of my being before I even knew your name, or what you looked like."

Sighing, he clenched his fist on the tabletop as he readied himself to continue.

"You poured your soul into that book, and therefore you poured your soul into me. I granted your every wish, for you to just turn around and reject everything I offered you. So yes, Sarah, I'd say that it is exactly the same."

Sarah's mouth flopped open; her blood rushed to her face and her knuckles blanched from how tight she was gripping the edge of the table. Was he just confessing his love for her? She wanted to petulantly argue that she did not pour her soul into anything connected to HIM, but that would be untrue. She loved that red book, and it had meant all things to her.

"Well, your revenge is quite poetic then," Sarah spat through gritted teeth. "You didn't even have to lift a muscle, and I was treated in exactly the same manner as your own perceived injustice."

"Revenge?" Jareth slammed his fist down on the table. "Will you continue to misjudge me for all eternity, Sarah?"

"Misjudge you? What have you ever done to deserve anything but judgement from me?" Sarah dug her nails into the mahogany wood of the tabletop. "Don't start with that generous bullshit, again."

"I could rearrange time and have you completely unaware of this conversation," Jareth unclenched his hand, lying it palm-down on the table. "I could have rearranged time when you won so that you would have instantly lost. Don't judge me on what I have done. Judge me on what I haven't done. I have been generous in _not_ tampering with your memories or your precious time."

"My parents are dead, my brother is practically imprisoned by his aunt," Sarah seethed. "You turned my whole life upside down."

"How am I to blame?"

"I smelled magic that night my parents died in a fire," Sarah's voice wavered.

"I've already told you that was not my doing," Jareth answered in softer tones.

"What? When?"

Sarah thought she imagined his face blanching briefly, before returning to his normal shade of pale. She had never discussed her parents with anyone here. Only Terry.

"Apologies, I made a mistake," he bit his lip. "But I had nothing to do with it. Toby was under the Labyrinth's protection. But your parents were not. If Toby went away, it would have left them exposed."

Hanging her head, and forcing tears back, Sarah could hear the sincerity of his words.

"For what it's worth, I am sorry that your parents lost their life, " he went on. "I may be cruel, but I have no intention of harming you or yours. Ever."

Jareth's expression was downcast and she hoped, authentic. Her heart was racing, and she didn't know what to believe anymore. It was easier to hate him and blame him, than whatever turmoil he was brewing up inside her.

She almost believed him. She almost believed _in_ him.

"Are you ready to go and see your friends now?"

* * *

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I have three more chapters completed but unedited. This one finally starts earning that M rating. More to come in later chapters. Thank you, reviewers and followers.
> 
> In case you missed it, last week I uploaded 8 and 9 at the same time, so you may have missed chapter 8. It was a short chapter but pivotal for upcoming chapters.
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this and if you could please review, I would shower you with Pavlova and Pineapple lumps.


	12. Chapter Eleven

CHAPTER 11

_"Are you ready to go and see your friends?"_

Sarah did desperately want to see them.

"So they're real, and weren't just a figment of my imagination, or just part of the magic of the Labyrinth?" hesitation tainted her tone.

"They were and are as real as you and me," Jareth said, rising from his chair. "Once you have refamiliarised yourself with them, then we will discuss your magic, and then you can provide your answer to the ball."

"I don't think a ball is necessary," Sarah followed suit by leaving her chair, following Jareth's long, elegant strides out of the hall, with her much shorter, clumsier gait.

"I do," she could almost sense his smirk through the back of his head. "It's long overdue since you've been here for over two years. From my knowledge, my subjects respect you, and _this_ will solidify your honour and reputation amongst them."

They headed down a stone corridor that Sarah recognised as one of the many that led to the gardens.

"I don't-," Sarah started but was stopped by Jareth spinning around, placing a gloved finger against her lips.

"We will address it after we have talked about your magic and attended to your friends," he removed his finger. "I promise that you will get the chance to vent your spleen at me, to your heart's content."

He turned back around, leaving Sarah abashed in his wake.

They entered the garden Sarah had first visited, upon her arrival at the castle. Jareth stormed ahead towards the bench under the willow-like tree near the pond.

There were her three friends: Ludo was standing with his back to her, but she could see glimpses of her other two friends around the bulk of her orange-haired friend.

Jareth stopped short of the trio, and then spun on his heel to confront her. She gave him a cursory glance before rushing towards her friends.

"Ludo," she called. "Hoggle! Didymus!"

Ludo turned around, while Hoggle and Didymus moved around the lumbering beast to see her. Hoggle's eyes widened.

"Sarah," all three said together.

"Sawah," in Ludo's case.

"Sarah, yer alive," Hoggle said next.

"Sarah alive," Ludo joined.

"Lady Sarah, it gives me so much joy to see life's breath inside thee," Sir Didymus puffed his chest out.

Sarah glanced at Jareth, who frowned at the three of them.

"Why wouldn't I be alive? Sarah gave a nervous laugh.

Hoggle's eyes shifted towards the King and back to Sarah. Jareth just crossed his arms and raised his eyebrows.

"Er, Sarah," Hoggle started. "Your friend Hill-a-roo, Hill-a-rey-

"Oh my god, Hilary " Sarah clasped her hand over her mouth. "What's happened to Hilary?"

"She called me through yer mirror a few days ago," Hoggle explained. "Said the red book told her to. Told us yer had been missing from Aboveground for two years. We hasn't seen yer, till nows."

"Is she ok?"

"She sure gots a surprise to be talking to me through the mirror," he nodded.

"You'll have to tell her I'm ok," Sarah pleaded. "It must be hard having her best friend disappear for two years without a trace."

"I is yer best friend," Hoggle prodded his chest with a thick finger.

"Yes, of course," Sarah laughed. "Hilary is my best _human_ friend."

Sarah ignored the pang she felt for Terry.

"She tolds us you was probably kidnapped," Hoggle went on, his eyes shifting between Sarah and the King, who was scowling with his arms crossed.

"We were concerned for thy health, my Lady, but we see that we were quite mistaken," Sir Didymus elaborated.

"I was kidnapped, but escaped somehow," Sarah shrugged weakly.

"Where art thou, the braggart who kidnapped, thy fair maiden?" Sarah noticed Hoggle's eyes flick towards Jareth yet again.

"I don't know who they were, Sir Didymus. And neither does your King, I believe."

Jareth's visage lost its tension, his crossed arms gaining a little slack.

"The Lady is correct," he shifted his boots across the stone path. "I have my suspicions, however."

The five of them exchanged looks with each other and stood in wooden silence.

Jareth cleared his throat. "I will return you to the castle within an hour."

He marched off down the path edging the lake. Sarah watched him go until he was out of sight.

Sarah spent the hour chatting animatedly with her friends. They made promises to tell Hilary she was safe and well. She briefly explained how her two years transpired Underground, leading up to the point she arrived in the castle. It had been painful talking about Terry, but oddly cathartic to talk to actual friends about it.

"A scoundrel, my Lady," Didymus declared.

"Tosser," Hoggle muttered.

"Terry bad friend," Ludo had contributed.

"Yer friend Hilary told us that the rat was the one that kidnapped you," Hoggle said as they walked alongside the waterways together.

"That had been my first thought," Sarah sighed. "But he insists it _wasn't_ him."

"The rat is a liar," Hoggle pointed out. "Hilary saws him, at yer party. "

"What?"

"Tis true My Lady," Didymus chimed in. "Lady Hilary saw his Majesty at the shindig you attended when someone absconded with thee."

"He was helping her look for yer after yers disappeared," Hoggle clarified. "Then he vanished, himself."

Sarah scowled. "Strange that he would leave me alone for two whole years, though."

"He is a rat, what yer expect?"

"Brother," Didymus chastised the dwarf. "Sarah is whole and hale. Has he been treating thee rightly, my Lady?"

"I guess," Sarah shrugged. "I've only been in his company since this morning."

"He brought you to see us, My Lady," a furry paw rested on her arm. "Though we are traitors to the Crown."

"Shut yer pie hole," Hoggle growled. "We is not traitors to nothing."

"I am surprised there was no punishment for helping me."

"We was," Hoggle gritted his teeth. "But nothing worth mentioning. A few tasks added to our duties. No bogging or tossing into an oubliette, so can't complain."

The idea of Hoggle not complaining made her burst out laughing.

"What's so funny?" Hoggle scowled.

"Sorry, Hoggle," she grinned. "It is just so good to see you all again."

She was still grinning when they rounded a corner and came across The King heading in their direction. Sarah's smile slipped off her face, discerning Jareth's features twisting from astonishment to a small, crooked smile. His mouth then moved into two thin straight lines.

"I was coming back to retrieve you," he claimed. Sarah nodded in response, her eyes downcast. She needed to know why he had attended the party but didn't want to interrogate him in front of her friends. "Say goodbye to your...friends."

Sarah took her time giving her friends kisses on their cheeks, each one a loving hug, as well. "Hopefully, I will see you again."

"Of course you will," the Goblin King chimed in. "They will be at the ball."

Once they made their goodbyes, they went their separate ways. Jareth indicated with his hand that Sarah should step in time with him. She was quite used to following his lead, walking beside him, felt almost outlandish.

"I hope your reacquaintance was satisfactory, Sarah."

"It was more than satisfactory," and though it tasted like ashes in her mouth, she thanked him for the opportunity.

He dismissed it with an aristocratic wave of his hand. "You're not my prisoner, Sarah. They are not either. You're free to visit them any time you wish if that would make you happy."

"What care do you have for my happiness?" Sarah bit. "I quite thought you intend quite the opposite."

"You imagine that I want to see you miserable?"

"I attended a party on my last day Aboveground," Sarah nodded. "Did you also attend the party?"

Jareth quit walking, so she did too.

"Yes, in fact, I was there," he answered truthfully. "And before you think it, I was not trying to kidnap you, nor was I the one to do so."

"So why were you there?"

"The Labyrinth offered you thirteen years reprieve from me, so I couldn't see you, go to you in any form, or even talk to you," he explained. "Samhain was when the time constraints ended. I went to talk to you, but the moment I laid eyes on you, you left to use the facilities, and that was that."

"You saw me?" Sarah blushed thinking of the skin-tight catsuit.

"I did, and it was quite a sight," his lips twitched. "It is forever ingrained into my memory. You were dancing to a song where a man, or maybe men come on Eileen."

Sarah snorted at his look of disgust but flushed brilliant red as he turned his gaze from the ground, back to her face.

"While the idea is appealing, it is quite crude to weave it into the magic of music."

Sarah coughed into her hands to cover the fact she was trying not to laugh at his sudden flippancy.

"They could at least be subtle about it," he shrugged.

"Has this been bothering you for all these years?" Sarah suppressed her grin, with increasing difficulty.

"No, Sarah," his countenance turned serious again. "What did bother me all these years was not being able to find you. The magic of my Labyrinth protected you from your kidnappers when you arrived Underground. You could almost say she kidnapped you, as it deposited you right outside its main gate. But then someone concealed you from me. Only on a chance sighting, at the festival, did I manage to overpower their magic and remove it from you."

"Did I tell you that outside the Labyrinth was where I landed ?" Sarah scrunched her nose up in thought.

"I have informers, Sarah," he sighed. "Don't trust anyone. Especially not that gardener that you associated with."

"He told you?"

"He told me certain facts, Sarah," he closed his eyes. "But he never told me that you were here until after I saw you at the Twilight Festival. I approached him afterwards because I noticed your partiality towards him. I can be very persuasive. Don't blame him. I will not use any information garnered to harm you, but rather to keep you safer."

"Am I safe from you?"

"Clever girl," he grinned. "You're as safe from me as you wish to be. If you ever wish to be in danger from me, I am only too happy to oblige."

His grin turned lascivious as he ran his darkening eyes up and down her form.

Sarah just rolled her eyes at him. "You go from fighting to flirting, to us hating each other to being polite to each other within seconds. We're like an old, marr-"

Jareth's grin stretched wider. "You can say it."

"No, I'd rather not," Sarah mumbled as she blushed anew.

Jareth shrugged lightly. "Things would never be dull between us."

He continued walking, leaving Sarah aghast as she followed him.

* * *

They arrived back in the castle in due course. A goblin notified Sarah that morning-tea was ready on the balcony of the dining hall. She was to wait there for the King to join her.

The view of the Labyrinth was magnificent. She had arrived before he did, having the goblin show her the way as he disappeared to run an errand. From the corners of her eye, she could sense the walls of the Labyrinth changing, but nothing moved if she looked directly at them.

Sneaky wall bastards. Her brain edged around the words "fair" and "not", but refused to fully complete the concept in her mind, conscious of Jareth's mocking voice the last time she had uttered those words. How could she let that overgrown fairy sod be her conscience?

"She is magnificent, isn't she?" Jareth asked from behind her.

"She?"

"The Labyrinth is certainly a female," Jareth quipped. "She is strong, determined, knows what she wants and is the most beautiful thing in all existence."

"So not moody, temperamental or hard to please?"

Jareth levelled a glare at her. "I am not a chauvinist, Sarah."

"Though you still believe yourself superior to everyone else," Sarah retorted.

"Not based on someone's sex though, Sarah, but purely intellect, beauty and power, which I have in spades," he grinned.

Sarah laughed. "And ego."

"It wounds me that you don't see, what I see in myself," he inclined his head. "So you at least see what I see, in the Labyrinth?"

"She is exquisite, I agree," Sarah nodded, looking back over the sprawling maze.

"I can take you back through it one day," Jareth smiled. "A personal guided tour from its master."

"I am planning on going home," Sarah pointed out. "Now I've seen my friends, and Terry has gone, there is little keeping me here."

Frowning, Jareth gestured to himself with mock flamboyance. "I am still here."

Sarah gave a soft chuckle. "I am sure you can bear the deprivation if I was to leave."

"But we have the ball and your magic to discuss."

"I told you, you don't need to hold a ball."

"But I'd like to Sarah," his voice almost broke into wheedling territory. "If for no other reason besides you owe me."

"I owe you?"

"You ran out of the last ball I held in your honour, remember?"

"Pffft," Sarah seized the railing with both hands, returning her gaze to the spectacle beneath her. "Perhaps, if you hadn't have drugged me."

"And this time, you will be there of your own accord," he declared. "No deceit, no deception, no peaches."

She turned back to him. His face reflected only sincerity. "I don't think it's a good idea."

"I do," he insisted. "Your people deserve to see their Champion, Sarah. Your King deserves to have his chance to celebrate his Champion."

"How can you want to celebrate your defeat?"

"Not my defeat, Sarah," his sharp teeth glinted in the orange mid-morning light. "I won a champion."

"I am not yours," Sarah stuck her hands on her hips and glared at him.

"Oh but my Sarah, winning the Labyrinth is not just your success but my whole kingdom's," he reiterated. "You are our only one. One of a kind. No other Kingdom can boast a champion, only us."

"Yes, but you lost."

"I lost the child, yes, but I won a champion," Jareth stepped closer. "We were both victorious, in the end."

"How does that work?" Sarah wouldn't give up. "I rejected you and went home. You lost Toby and the game and - and me."

She said that last word with absolute frailty leaking from her.

"Sarah," he drawled. "Even if you never returned here, if I never saw you ever again, it doesn't change the fact that you're the Champion, that you're _**my**_ champion."

"I still don't see how that's your victory, Jareth," Sarah sucked in her breath as she realised she had said his name out loud for perhaps the first time. A smug self-assured look crept across his face. She thought he was going to say something about it, but all he did was indicate the table set with tea, scones and biscuits.

"We should eat and discuss your magic," he pulled her chair out for her. "We can table the ball discussion for after dinner."

"If I'm still here for dinner," Sarah sat down. "I should leave soon, or it will be dark before I return to Ghent."

Jareth just pinched the bridge of his nose as he took his seat. "I have to thank you for mostly behaving like an adult since I returned but if you could stop goading me for just five minutes..."

"Terry said you wouldn't be back," Sarah mumbled. "I never would have come if y..."

"If I had been here," Jareth nodded. "I know. And Terry was right. I came back early. I had to take care of a few things that I couldn't trust to someone else."

"Then you left again," she pointed out.

"Yes, because I had to finish taking care of business, and I felt like you needed time to yourself after... everything," he gestured wildly with his hands. "Having the King in the Castle means protocol. I thought you deserved to rest without all that."

"Thank you for not making me feel like I'm imposing," Sarah said, barely audible. "It does make me want to leave more than if you had abused me for my presence."

"I imagine if I did shout and fuss, you would dig your heels in and demand that you stay, you contrary mare," he grinned. "Maybe that's the trick. Maybe I will refuse to let you attend the ball, and you will show up anyway just to spite me."

Sarah found herself laughing. Running the full gamut of emotions seemed par for the course with the Goblin King.

"Maybe try it and see."

"I am not calling your bluff, madam," Jareth wagged his finger at her. "You've always defied me. You asked me to take your baby brother, I obeyed. You fought me, to gain him back, you won him. I offered you everything you rejected it. I offer a ball in your name, yet you refuse it."

Sarah stared pensively into her tea. "I had to win my brother back. I had no choice. And as for everything else, I was fifteen years old. I needed to live my life. Regardless of the deaths, divorce and downfalls, it was my life. Nothing would have compelled me to go back and change my decision."

"Little Jareth was a special wee lad," Jareth said quietly. "No matter what I may say, I truly am glad you won him back, Sarah. The alternative would have been unthinkable."

"Being adopted by a fae couple?"

"Meffod and Yarbro Pinsburr," Jareth clarified, sinking his teeth into a clotted cream covered scone. "A nasty couple. Little Jareth - Toby deserved much better than them."

He scowled, as he poured teaspoon after teaspoon of sugar into his tea.

"He deserves much better than what he has now too," Sarah choked back a sob. "He was adopted by his aunt and forbidden from seeing me. I don't even know if he is OK."

Jareth stopped viciously stirring his tea to observe her face.

"Sorry, I don't know why I am telling you this," she rubbed her cheek with her hand to distract herself from the tears threatening to fall.

"Because we're allies, Sarah," he placed his spoon in the saucer. "We don't have to be lovers, or friends, or even common acquaintances to be allies."

"You may not want to believe it," he continued seeing her look of disbelief flit across her face. "But we should be working together. Yarbro and Meffod are as much your enemies as they are mine."

"How?"

"Incidentally because they are the couple I suspect of kidnapping you," Jareth answered, flatly. "They would have adopted Toby if you lost."

"What? Why would they want to kidnap me?"

"As revenge on me for losing their Stolen Pearl," Jareth explained. "I strongly suspect them, but don't want to confront them."

"Why not?"

"Sarah, I don't want them to know where you are until you are safe and secure,"

"What will make me safe and secure?" Sarah asked, raising a brow, her cup of tea, forgotten.

"The ball will be one step closer to doing just that. It will show people that you're in my protection. The Pinnsburrs are no match for me and my powers, and certainly not when you come into yours as well."

Sarah's cold tea was starting to get foamy bits of milk floating onto the surface, as it separated. She knew she should be listening, but watching the tea swirl in her teacup was helping her process that Jareth was _not_ her kidnapper. And he was trying to help her.

"I inform you that you have magic, and you sit and stare into your tea," he gave her a watery smile. "I expected more excitement. Again you're contrary by focusing on anything but what I divulge."

"I've always known I had magic," a sly smile. "According to my book, you gave me certain powers, after all."

Jareth's brows shot up. "What do you mean?"

"The little red book, it says that The Goblin King -" Sarah faltered. "Well it says, he gave the girl certain powers."

"No, it doesn't, Sarah," Jareth shook his head. "I know the book, and I know it doesn't say that."

"I didn't just make it up, Goblin King," Sarah snapped.

"I didn't say you did," he growled back. "But I assure you the red book does not say those words."

"But I knew it off by heart and those were the words," Sarah insisted.

"Say them," Jareth ordered. "Tell me the entire quote."

Sarah flushed furiously. "What's the point if you don't believe me?"

"I believe you," he sighed. "I believe magic has tampered with the book. Similar to how your friend found the words to call Huggle."

"Hoggle."

"Yes, I suspect the book changed for you specifically," he continued, ignoring her correction. "Now tell me the quote."

"Once upon a time, there was a beautiful young girl whose stepmother always made her stay home with the baby," she said in a rushed, flat, monotone voice. "And the baby was a spoiled child, and wanted everything to himself, and the young girl was practically a slave. But what no one knew is that the king of the goblins had fallen in love with the girl, and he had given her certain powers. So one night, when the baby had been particularly cruel to her, she called on the goblins for help!"

Jareth rested his elbows on the arms of his chair, steepling his fingers as he surveyed Sarah's flaming red face. She swallowed and turned away from his burning gaze.

"Now say the bit that's relevant again, slower this time," he finally said.

"Do you take delight in torturing me?"

"Not at all," he leaned forward. "I am curious as to why you're embarrassed about it, however. Did you write it yourself?"

"No, of course not," Sarah said. "I'm not embarrassed but uncomfortable."

"Does it make you uncomfortable to talk about feelings, Sarah?"

"I have no feelings, and nor do you," Sarah said, crossing her arms. "So the book changing to say that stuff is irrelevant."

"And yet, it is fascinating," Jareth recommenced, drawing his finger along his bottom lip. "Please recite it again."

Sighing, she leaned forward and with crystal clear annunciation, she gave him the quote. "But what no one knew is that the king of the goblins had fallen in love with the girl, and he had given her certain powers."

"It's not so much that I gave you certain powers," he formed a crystal in his hand. "But rather certain - factors that I shall explain later, bequeathed you with certain powers. However, they didn't come into play until you defeated the Labyrinth."

He tossed the crystal up in the air and caught it in his fingertips.

"Shall I finally explain your magic?"

Sarah stipulated that he should continue.

"So inside you, trapped and not easily accessible there is innate magic," he explained. "To activate it, you need certain criteria to be met. I will explain that criteria later. Combined with my power, your magic influences the Labyrinth, making you a target by my enemies as they would try to use you to my disadvantage, to gain traction or a foothold in my land."

"So I'm like a weapon?"

"A bit like that," he agreed. "The Labyrinth left you a gift. One that you can't use or feel until the conditions are right, but always inside you, being nurtured by your life force. The Underground helps strengthen your magic, and meets the conditions, quicker."

"And those conditions would be?"

"Currently unattainable," Jareth picked invisible dust off his sleeve. "In the meantime, you have my protection."

"What if I want to be weaponised, against you?"

"Then you risk your friends, the Labyrinth, the entire Kingdom," he narrowed his eyes at her. "It's bigger than both of us. And I would wager you'd end up dead too when you outgrew your usefulness."

"They wouldn't need me alive to use my magic?"

Jareth shook his head slowly, his expression dark. "At first they would, but if they found a way to drain you, then you'd be surplus to requirements."

Sarah swallowed. "Is that your plan with me too?"

He didn't say anything but twirled the crystal ball around his wrist, placing it on the table and tapping it with his finger until it dissolved in a puff of glitter. He never took his eyes off her.

She absent-mindedly scratched her cheek.

"I know you don't really believe in fair play," Sarah gave him a pointed look. "But if you plan on draining me and then killing me, could you please give me a heads up so I can at least get a running start?"

"The conditions can't and won't be met if I kill you, Sarah," Jareth's voice dripped with anger.

"So if I don't meet the conditions, no one can access the magic? So let's just not meet the conditions."

"You misunderstand," he ran his finger through the dusting of glitter on the table. "Unless you meet the conditions, _I_ won't gain access to the magic. It doesn't mean less scrupulous people won't try to gain your magic by more dangerous means. I, however, won't risk your life for a bit more power, Sarah."

"Oh."

"Oh? You sound disappointed," he cocked his head at her, still swirling a finger in the glitter. "Disappointed that someone can't use you against me, without risking your life?"

"No, not sure," Sarah mumbled. "More confused and untrusting."

"I hope this would help you trust me," he waved his hand over the pile of dust. The dust swirled into a mini-sparkling tornado before sprinkling into his palm and reshaping into a circle. The pieces raced around, the spaces in between decreasing until a solid silver bangle rested in his upturned hand.

"A bracelet?" Sarah asked, scepticism furrowing her brow.

"It's a promise bracelet," he held it out to her. "My promise to protect you and to keep you safe and alive."

She gingerly reached out and took the bangle. Tiny glittery blue diamonds permeated the silver bracelet, and opposite the clasp lay a single pearl, with a purple and green sheen.

"A pearl?" Sarah questioned.

"Indeed, is that a problem?"

Sarah thought back to when Prince Sevlydi mentioned to Terry that Jareth had a claim of marriage on her based on the prophesying of Tears of Pearls. Then there was the carving of the owl, the string of pearls, and how abducted children were called Stolen Pearls.

As her finger moved over the pearl, she had sudden flashbacks to the peach-induced ballroom, where strings of pearls twisted and looped around the walls and ceiling. Her jewellery had incorporated the gems with light green and purple brilliance.

She froze in her seat, her finger hovering above the pearl.

No.

She wouldn't accept that some piece of calcified rock was going to dictate to her who she would marry. Least of all, the Goblin King.

Ballroom symbolism aside, the entire concept was absurd. Sarah hadn't given the admission of the Prince any consideration since the other night. She had infinitely more pressing revelations to dwell on. It wasn't worth the toilet paper she wiped with to consider a pearl-based marriage to Jareth.

"What's a Briyash?" she found herself asking.

"Pardon?"

"Briyash? What is it?"

"It is a person," he answered. "An elf. Lord Briyash is Keeper of the Pearls. Why do you ask?"

"I came across the word," she shrugged. "In connection with some pearls."

Was the carving on the tree carved by Lord Briyash? Or was it telling her to find Briyash? Was it telling her anything at all?

"And what was the connection?"

"I have seen a pearl with such a hue before," Sarah brought it closer to her face, as she ignored his question. "Purple and green. I have a matching necklace to this, from Terry."

"Sarah, what was the connection to pearls?"

"The pearl motif is assuredly heavy-handed around these parts," she continued. "Can you tell me the importance of this particular pearl?"

"I can not," he ground out. "Can you tell me how you came to learn of Briyash."

"A tree, outside in the garden has a carving of pearls, and it says Briyash underneath," Sarah mumbled. "Can you tell me the importance of this pearl now? Your brother was very keen to divulge information to me, but I would like to hear it from you."

"Tears of pearls were collected from mythical creatures, and kept in a cave on my lands," he said briskly. "This is a replica of a pearl that was given to me from Lord Briyash before you performed your run. It is green and purple because a virescent and amethyst unicorn wept this tear."

As if struck by lightning, she just realised she had been fishing for Jareth to reveal that it was a pearl that prophesied his marriage to her. She didn't want to go down that road. What had come over her? She nodded in acceptance of his answer and hoped he'd say no more.

He just looked at her suspiciously over the rim of his teacup. It occurred to her that Sevlydi could have mentioned his conversation with him. She blushed at the thought that he could know, that she knew, that he believed he had a marriage claim on her based on the pearl.

"And just like that half the day is past," he stated, after they sat in heavy silence, chasing her out of her mortifying reflections.

"Do you not work?" Sarah teased, thankful for something to get her back on equal footing.

"You are my work," he smirked, standing then pushing his chair under the table.

"Charming," Sarah rolled her eyes.

"Would you rather I sweep you off your feet and romance you Sarah?"

"God no," Sarah spluttered. "I concede that we could be allies, but anything else is a hard pass."

Good, she was back on even ground, with no doubt in anyone's mind where they both stood with each other.

"Terry was a lucky man," Jareth said in an indecipherable tone.

Sarah laughed. "Lucky he made a quick escape before getting involved with me, you mean."

"No, I don't mean," stern.

"Then I don't know what you mean,"

"I meant he was lucky to have your friendship and your willingness to offer more."

"I wouldn't have offered more," Sarah shrugged. "I now realised that he wasn't worth compromising my ultimate goal."

"Ultimate goal?"

"To get back home, to find Toby," Sarah reminded him. "You say that it won't be easy, going back Above considering how much time has passed but Toby is my main priority. He will be sixteen years old now. I've lost two years of Toby's life, not to mention the years since dad and Karen died. The loss of Terry pales in comparison to my concern over Toby. At first, I thought it wouldn't be fair to start something with Terry if I was to leave but now..."

"I can't help you, Sarah," his hands gripped the back of his chair, lowering his head in resignation. "Toby is protected by me but also from me. I can't retrieve him."

"I wasn't suggesting you could," Sarah raised her chin to hide her dismay.

"I can't help you now, but I will find a way to assist, soon," he clarified. Her heart fluttered that he might find a way to help Toby. "Unfortunately, I have my duties to attend. May I show you to a garden, or a library to occupy you until luncheon?"

Sarah rose out of her chair and asked if she could see the library, as she pushed the bracelet over her wrist.

* * *

A few hours later, lunch had been brought to her as she read, and she hadn't seen taut hide nor fluffy, flyaway hair from the Goblin King since he left her.

She threw her book on Fae politics down on the oak table and leaned back in her chair, stretching her arms over her head.

She missed Toby, and she missed Terry. As much as she had put a brave front on today, the adrenaline-fuelled anger had left her body now. Tears shimmied down her cheeks, and before she knew it, wholehearted sobs wracked her body.

Everything was too much. Sarah had spent two years stuck in the Underground, daily life plodding along with the Spriggets, to then end up in utter turmoil and drama when Terry walked into her life. And then out of it.

He had brought Jareth back into her life. If she hadn't have met Terry, she probably would never have gone to the Twilight Festival. Jareth was hard work. She couldn't keep up with his mercurial moods or his ever-increasing revelations, nor could she unravel the mystery of the bridal-pearls and her kidnappers.

And Terry changing his tune all of a sudden: had he been scared off by Sevlydi's threat to call the Goblin King?

And how had she gone from enemy to ally in less than thirteen hours with Jareth?

It was all so confusing, and all she could do was cry. And sob. And mourn. Mourn her losses. Karen, her dad, Toby, Terry, Hilary- she couldn't keep deceiving herself that she would see them again.

The Goblin King had made it apparent that he would try, but not to get her hopes up.

She had been deep in a sob, head resting in her arms on the table, when she felt movement behind her. Sarah froze as she felt a strong arm reach across her shoulders, and a gloved hand rest on her knee. She lifted her head to peer through waterlogged eyes at the Goblin King kneeling beside her chair, his face lined with concern.

"Sarah," Jareth gave her knee a gentle squeeze and started running his other hand in circles across the back of her shoulders. "Has something happened?"

"No, nothing," Sarah wiped her eyes with the backs of her hands. "Nothing and everything."

Every point of contact with the King sent thrills through her body. She wasn't sure if they were favourable or not. But she couldn't bring herself to shake him off.

"I miss Toby plus I am hurt and angry with Terry," Sarah confessed, uncertain why she kept opening her mouth whenever he pressed her for information. He had been her childhood imaginary friend for so many years before he'd become her villain. She wondered if subconsciously she was seeing him as that imaginary confidant, rather than the reality of the villain.

"You shouldn't inspire confidences, but yet here I am again, pouring my heart out," she ranted. "I hate that you of all people are on the receiving end of my apparent lack of a filter. I should have answered you with 'it's none of your fucking business.' By the time I am through, you could write a novel of all my failings."

"I'm not keeping score, and I'm not taking note," his voice was silky and light, but with hidden depth.

"I don't trust it when you're nice. It's confusing. Be cruel and only cruel, so it's easier for me to hate you."

"Life isn't easy, so I absolutely won't make it easy for you to hate me," his hands still gently moved in comforting circles. "I thought we established that your first time here. Sarah, I'm a real person, with real feelings, and yes, I will admit _some_ flaws. Small ones, but flaws all the same. I can't be who you want me to be. I can't be your enemy anymore."

"Why, because it's too exhausting?"

"Yes, and it's only decent that you should have to work to hate me if I have to work to make you hate me," his hand left her back, slid over her shoulder and cupped her chin. "Maybe once in a while, you could forbear hating me and find yourself lukewarm towards me. You may even appreciate not hating me for a few minutes."

"Shouldn't you give me reasons not to hate you?"

"Oh, If you did surcease, you'd discover for yourself the reasons to not hate me," his thumb brushed away a stray tear. "Now, stop spending tears on a man who was determined to gain your confidence and then hurt you."

"What, and focus on you instead?" Sarah scoffed.

"If you like," he tilted his head to the side, grinning. "And as for Toby, well, wasn't patience one of the lessons you learnt in the Labyrinth? Hmmm, no, perhaps not. We will remedy that."

Sarah threw a scathing look at the blonde fae and finally gained enough awareness to push away from his tender grasp. She watched as his hands curled into fists as if shrivelling up from their rejection.

"We will figure Toby out, precious," he purred. "Meanwhile, may I escort you to dinner?"

Sarah nodded bleakly and stood up.

"If you return to your chambers, you will find a suitable dress for you to wear for dinner," Jareth held out his hand to her. "May I?"

Taking his hand, she suddenly found the ground dissolving beneath her, as her stomach swooped like she missed a step on the way down the stairs. She closed her eyes, and when she opened them, she was in her chambers, still holding Jareth's hand.

"I will wait outside," and with that, he strutted towards her chamber doors.

The silk dress was a burgundy colour. Simple, but more extravagant than the basic village-clothing she currently wore. She hurriedly got dressed and brushed her hair before joining Jareth outside.

"Would you like to walk or port to dinner?"

"Walk, please," Sarah clutched her stomach.

Sevlydi was already there when the two of them entered the dining room. He eyed Sarah, raising his glass to her.

"You've survived a day with my brother," he said in greeting.

"Only a day? It felt like a lifetime," Sarah muttered.

"She more than just survived," Jareth placed his hand in the small of her back, leading her to her chair. She wanted to fight him off, but Sevlydi was watching her with raised brows.

"I have to apologise for my nonsensical outburst over breakfast," he said as they all sat down, Jareth at the head, Sevlydi on his right and Sarah, his left. "It may not seem like faes are anything but cold, detached, heartless creatures, but I care for my brother and don't fancy him getting hurt."

"That's all very admirable," Sarah responded wearily. "But what makes you think that I have any power to hurt the Goblin King?"

"You're still in denial," Sevlydi retorted. "Don't you think your denial may be hurting him?"

Jareth rolled his eyes and took a sip of wine. "Let her be, Sev. She hasn't the foggiest what you're going on about and now is not the time."

"I think she does know what I'm talking about," he pointed at her wrist. "Nice pearl."

Her eyes fell to her wrist, resting against the edge of the table. Jareth had said it was a replica? Was it the replica of the pearl that foretold his marriage to her? Even if she liked Jareth, she didn't want her union, predestined. She preferred to exert her own will.

She glanced at Jareth who just raised a brow at her and took another sip of wine as he watched her, before meticulously removing one finger of his glove at a time. He wasn't going to be any more help, then.

"Yes, the King has impeccable discernment for jewellery," Sarah replied cheerfully. "And he crafted it himself, absolute genius."

Jareth smirked at her apparent sarcastic tone. Sevlydi shook his head at her.

"Lady Sarah and I have agreed to become allies, Prince Sevlydi," Jareth kept his blue eyes locked on her green ones. "Let us drink to this happy occasion."

The three of them raised their glasses and downed their first sip before they started on their entrée.

The rest of dinner was uneventful. Sevlydi and Jareth discussed the trade route on the North-Western border, and Sarah followed with minimal interest. She felt like screaming in Sevlydi's face that Jareth could have no desire for her to be his Queen when she had no interest in ruling.

Sarah stifled a yawn when they moved the discussion on to the selling of assets to the Guiana Coast. Or was it the Guianacoast? She didn't comprehend, nor did she care to know.

"Is this a constitutional monarchy or an absolute monarchy or just your every day, pedestrian monarchy?" She asked when there was a lull.

Both sets of blue eyes looked at her. "Well if I am to be the Champion, I may as well know a bit more about the land I am championing for."

Jareth's beam nearly broke his face in two. "Indeed, and if you truly want to learn, then I am sure Sevlydi is more than happy to tutor you throughout your stay."

Both brothers exchanged looks. The younger nodded while the older gave a self-satisfied wink.

Dessert came and went, and they retired to a sitting room off the main dining hall. It was cosy, and fire lit with fur rugs and squashy armchairs. Sarah relaxed in one while Jareth poured them each a brandy.

The brothers talked about the Kingdom again, gradually moving on to Nudalun and Omre. Sarah half-listened, until the heat of the fire, her rough day, and the brandy, slowly had her dozing off.

* * *

She woke up to a gentle hand at her elbow.

"Sarah, wake up, precious," she opened bleary eyes to see blue ones obscuring her vision. He was so close their noses almost touched, and she could see the speckles scattered through his irises. It was like looking into a supernova.

"Your eyes - " She started saying before she regained that little bit more consciousness and pushed away from him. "Was there a sleeping potion in that brandy?"

"Of course not," he hadn't moved away from her. His eyes bore unto hers, unnerving her at such proximity.

"I keep falling asleep during the day," she rubbed her eyes.

"My understanding of human emotions is limited, but I'd say you have had quite a lot of them today, and the past few days," he peered into her face. "Emotions tire humans out, or so I'm told."

"They do," Sarah mumbled. She was suddenly aware that they were alone, and Sevlydi had left the room. "Perhaps I should call it a night."

"If you wish," Jareth smiled, still crouched down in front of her. "I take it you're planning on staying then?"

"I don't think I should. We may be new allies, but your brother..."

"Is going to visit a friend and will not return until the night of the ball,"

"Will you still hold a ball in my honour if I am not there?" she asked, doubtful.

"No," he answered bluntly. "That's why you'll be there."

"I haven't agreed," Sarah straightened.

"Oh, but you will," he grinned.

"You're an arrogant sod, did you know that?"

"And you're the only one in the universe, who could talk to me like that _and_ get away with it too, you know that?"

"I don't know," Sarah shook her dark head. "Your brother gives you quite a bit of shit,"

"But he doesn't get away with it," he said darkly. Sarah felt a funny sensation flutter in her stomach. Why would he let her get away with it?

"You shouldn't be so arrogant, and I wouldn't have any need to call you arrogant," she countered.

"But then, I wouldn't be me," he grinned. "But if you want a watered-down version of me, you can always try your luck with my brother."

Sarah just laughed. "I'm not masochistic. I don't enjoy developing relationships with people who hate me. Actually, that's a lie. My husband is exactly the kind of person I loved to hate."

"Husband?" Jareth stood up, now looking down on her, instead of slightly up at her.

"Ex-husband," Sarah corrected. "Not officially, but we're legally separated. I wonder what he is doing right now? Maybe he's rotting in jail because of my disappearance."

"How fast did you drink your brandy?" Jareth quirked a brow, as he fashioned a crystal in his palm.

"Not fast enough," Sarah giggled. "The last thing I need is husband drama with everything going on in my life. I wonder how Hoggle spoke to Hilary though, and if I could talk to her?"

"Mirror portal, and yes if you wish," he swung the crystal under one arm, catching it backwards with his opposing hand. "We can try to contact her tomorrow if you like."

"Yes, please," Sarah grinned. The thought of seeing her best friend energised her.

"Meanwhile, hold this and say your husband's name and we can see what he is up to," Jareth passed her the cool crystal.

She held it in her palm and peered in.

"Mark Fenwick," she said, watching the crystal turn hazy before she saw two figures inside. It was some woman with her husband, and it didn't take long before she saw they were at it like rabbits.

She dropped the ball as if it burnt her. Jareth raised a questioning brow.

"Men," she muttered as she bent down to pick it up off the floor.

"I take it you didn't find him in jail then?"

"Nope," Sarah sighed. "I found him doing his favourite hobby.

"Care to elaborate?"

"It's probably your favourite pastime too," Sarah quipped.

"But he can't be spending time with you," he leant in closer to her. "Because you're here with me."

"Haha," Sarah enunciated sarcastically. "Guess again!"

"Well, I know he can't be practising Magic or running a Labyrinth?"

"No."

"Was he doing a puzzle?" Jareth considered. Sarah shook her head.

"What was he doing that's so repulsive to you then?"

"He was getting his rocks off with another woman," Sarah said plainly.

"And you think that is one of my most favourite pastimes?"

"Possibly; Probably; most likely."

"I am particularly good at it and do enjoy it immensely," he agreed. "It pleases me that you have thought about my prowess in bed."

Rolling her eyes, she pushed up from her chair, passing him back his crystal. "Thank you for showing me what I'm not really missing.

"Oh precious, I haven't yet started to show you what you've been missing," his mouth curled into a coy smile, and his eyes glittered with lustful intentions. "But I'm ready when you are."

"So never then?"

"So cold," he smirked as she pushed past him.

"I've had enough of men that care more about the pussy that's bouncing up and down on their cock, than the woman who owns the pussy," Sarah realised she had more to drink than she first believed as she stumbled across the room towards the door. "Until a man can prove that I'm worth more than some lame, tawdry sex, they can get it elsewhere."

"I can assure you, Sarah, that my experience is anything but lame."

"In my experience, if you talk a big game - if you have to advertise it, you're probably not as good as you think you are."

With that, she bolted out the exit, towards her rooms. Somehow, despite inebriation, she succeeded in locating them. She turned the doorknob, shouldered the door open and walked right into Jareth.

"Ooff, the fuck-," she pushed his chest with both hands to stop herself from toppling over. He didn't even budge. It was like pushing off a marble statue. And just as cold, based on the hard look carved onto his face.

"We hadn't finished talking."

"I had."

"You haven't agreed to come to the ball yet."

"Correct," Sarah placed hands on her hips.

He mimicked her, placing his own hands on his hips.

"Sarah, I won't beg," he stated.

"I will be reasonable, despite how much I'd love to see you beg," she moved her hands from her hips to cross her chest. "You've explained how it is beneficial for your subjects, and that it cements to the public and my kidnappers that I am under your protection, but what else is in it for me?"

"The chance to be on the arm of an extremely desirable and good looking fae," he grinned.

"No, seriously!"

"I am serious," then he sighed. "Being my guest of honour will assist you in making connections, which could lead to marriage or..."

Sarah barked out a mirthless laugh. "Sarah Williams will never marry again."

"Are you no longer Sarah Fenwick?"

"I never was," Sarah's face drew into a puzzled frown.

"I heard you say your husband's name," he said as a way of explanation, shrugging.

"I never took his name," Sarah shrugged. "I kept my own."

Jareth smiled. "So fiercely independent. If you marry Underground, your name can also stay the same, if you wish."

"Again, I am not getting married," Sarah huffed.

"I know you're not fond of the fae, but perhaps an elf or a human may catch your eye."

"I am not good at marriage," Sarah tapped her fingers on her own crossed arms. "It's not a venture I plan on taking on again. Try again."

Jareth ran his finger across his top lip. "Whatever you would like at the ball, I will include it. Music? Flowers? Food? You can have your say, and I will grant it."

"Anything I want? So if I asked for Come on Eileen, by Dexy's Midnight Runners, you could play that?" Sarah bit her lip to resist laughing at his horrified expression.

"If you wish," he said resigned. Sarah sighed. She could tell he was trying so hard to convince her to go to the ball.

"Can I give you an answer in the morning?"

"You will truly think about it?"

"I will," Sarah yawned.

"I have kept you too long," he lowered his head in a bow and twisted on his heel to leave the room.

After her bath and other ablutions, she lay in bed, considering her decision to go or not. He hadn't put forward a very robust argument in favour of her going. Not really. But his insistence was compelling. She'd swore to herself she would have an answer for him in the morning.

* * *

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: In case I haven't already mentioned it, Terry's name is my little tribute to the late great Terry Jones. Thank you, followers and commenters. 


	13. Chapter Twelve

CHAPTER TWELVE

"This can play any music you ask it to," Jareth placed a crystal with red and black smoke shimmering inside, on the table in front of her.

"Even _**come**_ on, Eileen?" Sarah asked innocently.

Jareth's eye twitched. "If you wish."

"Hmm, interesting, and what purpose does it serve?"

"Did I not say you could have some choice over the music at the ball?"

"You did, but I have yet to tell you my decision," Sarah sipped her tea, widening her eyes and innocently batting her long lashes at him.

They were seated at the breakfast table, sans Sevlydi, much to Sarah's relief. She chastised herself for preferring Jareth's company.

Jareth grinned, undeterred. "Pick a song, any song."

Sarah wanted to pick something that would rub Jareth the wrong way but really couldn't think of anything.

"I don't know," Sarah flapped her hands. "Come -"

"Anything but that,' he growled.

"-Undone, by Duran Duran," Sarah finished sweetly. Jareth showed her how to start it a song and then how to finish it.

The crystal started emitting the opening notes of the pop song. Sarah gaped at it, and then, at Jareth.

"Point made," she said, turning back to the crystal. "Impressive."

"Mine, immaculate dream made breath and skin, I've been waiting for you," sang the crystal ball. Sarah tapped it, and it stopped playing. She didn't need Jareth reading any more into her song choice.

"It's yours," Jareth smiled, straightening his cuffs and smoothing his lapels.

Sarah had missed music, and this was such a beautiful gift. "And what do I have to do in return?"

"Nothing."

"There's always a catch," Sarah raised a brow. "You fae don't do anything for others without a price."

"Just so," he nodded. "I am the exception to the rule with you, my dear. I am experimenting with your mortal sentimentality and giving you a gift with no strings attached."

Sarah smiled as she looked down at the crystal in her palm. Half of her wanted to scorn his words as pure sarcasm, but the other half believed his sincerity.

"I'm ready to give you an answer."

* * *

Sevlydi was finally in the warm embrace of his lover, Rica, after so many obstacles. They kissed and caressed each other, lying naked in Rica's bed. Their kisses urgent after so long; their touching, no less desperate.

Sevlydi rolled his lover over, massaging his supple bottom while kissing down Rica's neck and shoulder blades.

"Forgive me, my love," Sevlydi growled into his neck. "It's been too long. I need you now. And _fast_."

He kissed Rica's jaw as he rubbed his erection into the cleft of his bottom. One application of liquid from a crystal bottle provided enough lubricant to get started. He couldn't remain patient any longer. He pushed the tip of his cock into Rica, both men groaned in exquisite agony. Sevlydi inched in slowly as Rica elevated his arse higher into the air so he could fondle his testicles.

Sevlydi closed his eyes and gasped as his nuts finally rested against Rica's backside, his cock now completely inserted up to the hilt. Rica swore in pleasure, as he took his cock in his hand, all weight resting on his one arm now. Thankfully, Rica was a strong fae.

Sliding back out, just as slowly as he entered, Sevlydi let out a loud moan. But without warning, he slammed into Rica again, and again; faster and faster. Rica met him thrust for thrust, jerking his hand along the shaft of his penis.

"Oh my Prince," Rica called as he was ridden furiously by his high-ranking lover. Both Rica's hand and Sevlydi's pelvis become blurs in their ecstasy.

"Fuck," Sevlydi cried as he shot his hot, full load within him. Rica followed suit into his hand shortly after.

They were just getting their breath back, Sevlydi was slowly and tenderly kissing Rica's back while he withdrew his cock, when they both turned their heads to the side. A popping noise had grabbed their attention.

"Goblin," Sevlydi breathed, his blood leaving his body. "A spy."

"You think King Jareth is spying on you?"

"No, he knows about us," he ran a hand down Rica's spine. "He wouldn't have any reason to spy on us."

They disengaged from each other, staring wild-eyed and fretfully towards each other.

"I surmise that a goblin has been bribed or coerced to spy for someone else," he bit his lip as he stroked Rica's sandy, curly hair. "I need to tell Jareth. I'm sorry, my love, but I can't stay."

"What will happen to me?" Rica's voice was small and tense.

"I'm not sure," Sevlydi shook his long blonde hair free, before re-tying it. "I should never have come when I knew this was so risky. Jareth needs to fucking hurry up and marry, so their attention is off me. The arse. He spends so much time dangling that mortal along, and the longer it takes, the more Nudalun and Omre push for his marriage to Forsythia."

Sevlydi hit the post of the canopy bed with the palm of his hand. "He has continually ignored the orders The High Council have sent. He doesn't even comprehend the number he has disregarded. And even from our father now too."

"Why so much interest?" Rica pushed Sevlydi's hands away, running his fingers through Sevlydi's long straight hair.

"If he doesn't marry the mortal soon, he'll have no choice. Nudalun is the only one with children. Omre and his wife had been trying for years with no luck. And there have been no runners since that Champion of his."

"Why doesn't he just marry her?" Rica asked, helping Sevlydi plait his hair.

"Who?"

"The mortal."

"He wants her to love him," Sevlydi barked with laughter. "He could just require her to marry him, but I know my brother. His pride won't allow a forced marriage, but rather he wants her to want him, to choose him. But she is headstrong and refuses to see him as anything but her enemy."

"So why not marry Forsythia, keep his family happy, and then take the Champion as his lover?" Rica kissed the Prince behind the ear before handing him his clothes.

"Your guess is as good as mine," he shrugged, pulling his shirt over his head. "But the longer he waits to woo her, the more impatient our siblings get. King Effistod, my father, will start putting pressure on him too. They see Forsythia is a good match for Jareth. A puppet, Nudalun and Omre can use, to their benefit."

"How so?"

"The Labyrinth is a source of magical power, but as you know, not as significant as the Mountains of Haddoyne where Nudalun rules," Sevlydi shoved his legs into his trousers. "However, while that magic wanes, the Goblin Kingdom waxes. They seek to control the King, and therefore the Labyrinth. Little do they know that The Champion will prove a fierce defender too. Love, it's for our benefit he marries the mortal."

"How's that?" Rica handed his lover his boots and jacket, while he still lingered naked and erect.

"If Jareth married the champion, as per the prophecy of the pearl, the two of them combined would be more powerful than Navas," he shrugged his jacket on and stomped his feet into his boots. "I consulted recently with Briyash, the Keeper of the Pearls. The bride-pearl he was supplied, not only led him to the mortal chit but originated from the rarest unicorn in existence."

He paused and straightened his clothes, watching his reflection in the mirror.

"That unicorn _granted_ that pearl," he continued. "My brother doesn't know this. Briyash and I, and now you are the only ones who know. Usually, the fae and elves steal pearls from the creatures that wept them. Not this pearl. The unicorn _granted this one_. It was predicted by the virescent and amethyst unicorn that the finder of the pearl will release all of the Tears of Pearls, the Council of Mythical creatures will exist once again, seeking sanctuary in the Goblin Kingdom."

Rica gasped. "Why does King Jareth not know this?"

"Because I want my brother to marry for love, not politics," Sevlydi explained. "He can't choose to marry the mortal, just to fulfil the prophecy. He has to do it for love. He has to come to the right conclusion himself, to travel to the moonstone caves with her, and not just out of obligation. It's the way these prophecies work. They test the purity of the heart or some such nonsense. If his motivation is purely for seeking power, then it will not be realised."

"How was it you were allowed to know?"

"I haven't the time for that story, Rica."

Rica kissed him in response.

"With so much magic, power and protection, the Goblin Kingdom will again stand alone and out of Navas' shadow. But-" Sevlydi rambled on.

"But?"

Sevlydi sighed. "But he needs to marry the mortal to make it come true. And if it comes true, we get a haven to be lovers. Jareth won't care if I never marry a woman. We can be together forever legally. However, he is fucking everything up. He has tricked her, and she is a mere, soft mortal with mortal emotions. She won't forgive him. He has to marry her, Rica. I can't live without you. He has to marry her!"

"So we make him marry her," Rica suggested, straightening Sevlydi's collar.

"The King has already stopped with the deceit," he arranged his cuffs. "His alter ego is in banishment. If she ever finds out, it is quite over for us. But now this - this Goblin spy has put a spanner in the works. I have to get back to my brother immediately."

"I understand," he grinned. "I will wait out the short term, and therefore I can have you in the long term."

"Hope and wish that the mortal marries the King," Sevlydi kissed Rica on the lips. "And soon. Your life is on the line if anyone finds out about us before the Kingdom is a Sanctuary. Before the lifting of the fae-curse."

* * *

"Tell me your answer" Jareth implored, placing his teacup down in the saucer, sloshing tea across the table. "Don't waste another second."

"I have decided to attend your ball," Sarah smiled at the boyish expression that lit up Jareth's face.

"Truly?"

"Yes, but it's my prerogative to act like I don't want to be there," Sarah flipped the curtain of dark hair over her shoulder.

"That's a bit childish, is it not?" Jareth bristled at her statement.

Jutting her chin forward, she narrowed her eyes. "I don't want people to get the wrong idea."

"What idea would that be?"

"I am there to be your champion, and that's all," Sarah explained, unruffled by his dangerous glare. "I will not worship the ground you walk on, and I won't pretend to anything."

"No one is asking you to pretend to anything-"

"Prince Sevlydi seems to think I should be fawning over you with gratitude," she shook her head. "I won't be doing that."

Confusion marred his brow before his face relaxed into its usual stiff indifference. "You're coming, and that is the main thing. I have lots of planning to attend to so I will not be joining you for luncheon, but I will see you at dinner."

He rose stiffly, bowing his head to her with forced civility, and left. He had gone from boyish wonder and excitement to cold politeness in seconds. Sarah wasn't sure how she had gone so wrong. It was natural for her to want to keep Jareth at arm's length.

Sarah's acceptance of Jareth's gift and the invitation was no more profound than face value discernibility. Just because she was going to the ball, didn't mean she was going to shag Jareth or end up marrying him. She had only thought to clarify that fact.

Sarah spent the morning perusing books in the grand library again. She was joined for morning tea by her trio of friends. True to some of Jareth's words, he didn't join her for lunch, but contrary to what he had also said, she saw him before dinnertime.

"I thought you might like to spend a few hours in the Labyrinth," he had appeared directly after her friends had left. She was arranging all her used dishes on the lunch tray that goblins had brought her earlier. Just because Goblin servants were tending to her every need, didn't mean that she should become slovenly and careless. If clearing up after herself made someone's job a bit easier, then she'd do what she could.

"The servants can do that," Jareth waved his hands in the direction of her table.

"They can, but I'm just making their jobs a little more manageable," she sighed. A King would never understand, especially one as spoilt as the Goblin King.

"You're too kind," he frowned. "Humans have such a capacity for kindness, I have found."

"And extreme cruelty too," Sarah admitted, thinking of wars, famine, colonisation, white supremacy, slavery, and every other fucked up thing going on in the world. She finished tidying up and then straightened to face Jareth as he stood, her hands on hips directing his glare at her.

"In your world, yes," he nodded, running his gloved hand through his untamed hair. "Humans that live Underground have not displayed many signs of evil. Except for the ones raised by faes, as they are often cruelly treated and lose their humanity as a result. Magic takes whatever weaknesses are inherent in the human, and hones them into less moral traits, even by fae standards. We generally hold very different morals to humanity."

"Your father had four children," Sarah suddenly thought. "And none of them Stolen Pearls, is that right?"

"Yes, we're all his children," he shrugged. "Unnaturally gifted, I guess. The four of us are much sought after by other royal families for our perceived fertility rates. My sister Nudalun is the only one to have made a crucial marriage and then had children. She is the only one who didn't care who she married. Omre is married but has no children yet."

Jareth spoke with a flat, emotionless voice. He looked up at her, giving her a sad smile. "My mother married my father for love when his first wife passed on. My father is a complex creature. I believe he loves my mother in _his_ way. I grew up not caring one jot about marriage. I couldn't have cared less who it was too, as long as they left me alone. But now-"

He snapped out of the trance-like state he had temporarily disappeared within.

"Apologies, Lady Sarah," he pinched the bridge of his nose. "You do not need to hear my woes."

"No, it's fine," Sarah offered a warm smile. She found his use of her title bemusing. "Forgive the term, but it almost humanised you."

Jareth gave a wan smile in return. "I envy you, your humanity. The faes are cold, aloof, and selfish creatures. They don't experience love like you humans do."

"You talk of them, as if you're not one," Sarah arched a brow.

"My mother's mother- " he swallowed. "Was a Stolen Pearl. Please keep that to yourself, but that makes me part human, I suppose, but still mostly fae."

Sarah gawked at him. Then noticing his perplexed look closed her mouth with an audible snap. "Ironic that you then do all the stealing."

It was out of her mouth before she had a chance to think. Annoyance and grief flitted across his face.

"Yes, ironic," he said coldly. "But I want you to know that it is not my chosen profession. Sarah, I don't enjoy the Stolen Pearl trade."

"You don't?"

"I may be fae, I may be cruel, I may be arrogant, though in all these hundreds of years only one good thing has ever come out of the Stolen Pearl trade," he strode towards her, placing his gloved hands lightly on her shoulders. "I may be many things, but a child thief is not something I have aspired to become. It comes with the territory; the curse of the fae. I want you to believe me, Sarah. If you believe nothing more of what I have ever told you, believe that I loathe the Stolen Pearl trade. I took your brother because I was obliged, not because I wanted to take him."

"Why did you have to?" A timorous voice.

"Sarah, if I refused, then the Labyrinth would have taken him, and you, anyway," he sighed, his fingers tensing their grip on her shoulders. "It's not the Labyrinth's fault. She is caught in the curse as much as we are. When the curse originated, the fae needed a way to get children. Goblins used to steal them, willy-nilly. The fae claimed them as their own, but when the first Goblin King ascended, he didn't agree with stealing the children, for the sake of merely stealing."

He paused, breathing deeply. "To create a game he designed the Labyrinth and the red book. It intended a chance to win back the taken child. A chance was all it was, as the humans never won. The adults who wished away their children, returned unburdened. The first Goblin King only wanted undesired, outcast children rather than just any child. He, like you, believed in fairness."

Sarah quirked her brow at this reference.

"Unfortunately, The King didn't believe in _complete_ fairness as he made the Labyrinth nearly impossible to beat," he growled. "The fae attached a curse to ensure that if either the Goblin King or the adults refused to run, that the child would still be theirs. I had to offer you the chance to run. I had to take your brother. The alternative would be unimaginable. Both of you would have been fae children by now, impure and tainted. Just as cruel, arrogant and unkind as I am."

Sarah absorbed the information. If it was true, she had no reason to hate the King for taking her brother. Someone would have stolen Toby regardless. Jareth was right, at least giving her a chance. Sarah had retained her humanity because of him. She was the one that had said the right words, for that Sarah couldn't blame Jareth. But he had ensured Sarah and Toby would at least have the opportunity to keep their humanity and return home.

"Thank you," Sarah whispered. Jareth took his hands off her shoulders, letting them hang limply at his side. Sarah summoned up all her bravery, and threw her arms around Jareth's neck, hugging him to her. "Thank you for giving me a chance."

His arms snaked around her waist, holding her close to him. His scent and warmth washed over her in intoxicating waves. She felt the hum of his voice flow through her body as he started talking again.

"As for everything else, every other claim against my name, the bog, the cleaners - I did what I had to slow you down. Hate me for those, but know that you were never in any real harm. The design of the Labyrinth is to test you, not harm you."

"Even the peach?"

Jareth pushed her gently away from him, to look into her face. "It was below me, and I am sorry for it."

"Why did you do it?"

"A cheap trick," he explained. "You had gone further than most with time left. No one had won before. I had to do my job to slow you down. I am bound, Sarah. The curse binds the Labyrinth, as it binds me. You exceeded expectations. Grown adults have quit the challenge before they've even started, but a mere child took it on and won. I gave you the peach out of curiosity, but you conquered it all the same. But without it, I may never have discovered..."

"Discovered what?"

"What it was like to dance with you," he closed his eyes. "Discovered something bigger than myself."

Sarah laughed. "I am sure you have had many, many dances with people more elegant and more dainty-footed than me."

"Undoubtedly," his usual cheeky grin graced his face. "But none that have ever captivated me as you do."

Blushing, Sarah took a step back from him, and with a weak voice, asked if they were going to visit the Labyrinth.

He nodded gravely. "Before we go, may I ask you one question?"

Agreeing, she tilted her head to show she was listening. Several emotions crossed his visage as if he was struggling how to word his inquiry. Or perhaps he was attempting to decide which one of a plethora of questions he was going to select.

"Why did you decide that you would come to the ball after all?" he finally asked.

Whatever she thought he was going to ask, that wasn't on the top of her list. Why had she agreed?

"I am asking myself the same question," she joked.

He just raised a brow and waited for her to proceed.

"I don't trust you, but I can see you're trying hard to ensure my alliance," she furnished. "Other than that, I don't know why I agreed."

Jareth licked his lips, blinked and tapped his finger against his nose. "There must be a reason."

"I'm not sure," she bit her top lip and sighed. "I guess curiosity is one driving factor."

"Anything else?"

"You convinced me with your sheer determination," Sarah squeezed one eye shut, struggling to find the justification for her choice. "I want to see my friends, and part of me is intrigued by the thought of dressing up and dancing. Though, I am not going to kid myself that I am in any way attending a fairy tale ball. I quite expect egg on my face by the end of the night."

She scoffed at the very idea that she would be comfortable at this ball.

Jareth nodded. "Thank you for your forthrightness. I will strive to make it as pleasant for you as I can, and will personally scramble any eggs before they have a chance to land on your face."

Sarah laughed. "I'd like to see that."

"Let us go visit the Labyrinth."

He held out his hand, Sarah slipping hers into his gloved grasp. They whirled away through time and space until they ended up in the walled section near the beginning of the Labyrinth.

The moment her feet touched the ground, sanctuary, safety and protection enveloped her with an all-encompassing feeling. She belonged here, and she knew it. She opened her eyes to see Jareth studying her face.

"Is everything satisfactory?"

"Yes," Sarah nodded, barely aware in he still clasped her hand. "I feel - I feel an overwhelming sense of- safety."

He gave her a quizzical look and then smiled. "You're the Champion, and she is welcoming you back."

Sarah enjoyed the sensations rushing through her as she became acquainted again with Labyrinth. The feelings were warm baths after being caught in the rain, they were the first sip of water after running a marathon, and they were the first dive underwater on a blistering summer's day.

Taking deep breaths, she started looking around. Things looked similar but different from how she remembered it the first time. Details she missed on her run because she was so focused on finding her brother, such as carvings and other enhancements, distributed throughout the walls, the odd terrazzo tiles inserted upon the ground.

"She likes you," Jareth said from her elbow. It was then that she realised they were still holding hands. She peeled her hand away from his, and he let go with an air of reluctance.

"She does?"

"I can sense her trust and faith in you," Jareth patted the walls with his free hand. "Parents usually fail the tests, due to their incompetence and immoral behaviour, but you passed every one of them. The Labyrinth wanted you to win."

He shook his head and looked at her. "She calls you Hi'livé," he continued as he scanned her face, his odd blue eyes penetrating her armour. "The highest honour."

"What does it mean?"

"Challenge breaker, or winner," he answered. "It's 'Champion' in an old, long-dead elven language."

"She speaks to you?"

"Not like we converse," Jareth tapped the wall with a finger. "It's nuanced, but I sense things she has to say. I hear Hi'livé in dreams and on the wind."

Sarah listened, only hearing the light breeze skip around the corridors of the maze, like a faint hum. She turned to see Jareth leaning against the wall, standing on one leg, his other leg bent, his booted foot resting on the bricks, his eyes closed, his head tipped back, and face to the heavens. He was like a cat, soaking up the last rays of the afternoon sun.

She blushed as her eyes travelled over his form, and his eyes flicked open as she inspected him. His lips curled into a smug smile. While her eyes were still on him, he lowered his leg and crooked the other one against the wall.

It was a very self-conscious gesture, and it didn't escape her notice. She blushed again, cleared her throat and turned away.

She picked a direction, heading into it. She hadn't gone far when she noticed Jareth was trailing her. She tucked her hands under her armpits and carried on, picking random directions. They maintained this tranquillity approaching nigh on half an hour.

"Would you like to come this way?" he had stopped by an innocuous-looking path, gesturing with his black-gloved hands.

She turned around and went the way he indicated. Why not? The path was short, ending with one small turn before opening into a clearing. Conical topiary trees lined the borders of the walled space, and a mirror-like pond sat in the middle, almost right up to the trunks of the trees.

Across the mirror-pond, there was a grass path sprawling across the water in a spiral pattern, with smaller spirals branching off from the main route, like the fronds of a fern. Some of the spirals ended with circles in which various flowers and shrubs grew. In the centre of the largest circle was a shallow pit with assorted cushions and rugs. A low table already displayed with food, sat front and centre, inviting and enticing Sarah to partake.

"How come I never stumbled across this when I did my run?" Sarah asked, in awe. "Not that I would have wanted to, because I wouldn't have needed the distraction."

"You only saw a small portion of the Labyrinth," he stepped closer to her. "There are plenty of other wonders to explore. But you'll have plenty of time for that."

"I won't," Sarah refuted. "I said I would attend the ball, but then I should be heading back to Cloverfield."

Jareth ignored her, leading the way down to the cushion pit. Sarah followed warily. Gracefully, like a leopard, he folded his body down into the cushion pit and stretched out on his side supported by an elbow amongst the cushions.

Sarah followed, sitting cross-legged on the opposite side of the pit. He popped a grape in his mouth, closing his eyes briefly in pleasure. Sarah found the sight of him in repose and enjoying culinary delights almost too much to bear. She had to admit that whatever confusing feelings he attempted to evoke, the attraction was something that came naturally.

Jareth was, as he claimed, a highly attractive and desirable fae. His features were just distinctive, but not too perfect. His crooked smile was still beautifully flawed. She suspected he'd make any imperfection attractive. That made her irrationally cross.

Of course, Jareth noticed her perusal, but he just smiled at her. A pleasant one, without his usual smugness or malice. She felt her heart contract and her stomach flutter, but she didn't look away. She popped a grape into her mouth, without taking her eyes off him.

His eyes darkened, but there was no other noticeable change. Sarah thought back to her dream where they had both been nakedly kissing in the lake; the thought sent tingles shooting down her spine, not to mention some slickness settling between her legs. Despite their history, despite his arrogance, she was starting to admit defeat. She was attracted to the Goblin King. It was easier to deny when she concentrated on hating him, but as she got to know him better, her resolve was gradually eroding.

She imagined those powerful, yet nimble hands touching her or those smooth, sensual lips kissing her, or those blue-steel eyes appraising her as she lay naked in his bed.

"Sarah?"

Cursing under her breath, she belatedly realised he had asked her a question.

"Sorry," she scratched her temple. "Could you repeat the question?"

Jareth shifted, raising his leg and propping it on the wall of the pit, ensuring certain parts of his anatomy came into more potent contrast against his light grey trousers.

Sarah flicked her eyes down to the food tray, selecting a sweet and placing it into her mouth as a distraction.

"I asked if the Spriggets were good to you," he repeated, casually, though she assumed, internally he was feeling anything but calm.

"Yes, of course," Sarah agreed. "They quartered me for two years and provided for all my needs."

"And farm life suited you?"

"It was different from what I am used to moreover it took a while to get a handle on it all, but I loved my time with them," she answered honestly. "I liked hard work, and they were very kind people. I was fortunate they found me. Much preferable to being a kept woman."

She couldn't resist having a dig at him for how her life was right at this moment. He raised one upswept brow but nodded at her words.

"You have an independent spirit, precious," he said. "But your time with my subjects will help you gain the Vox populi."

"Popular voice?" Sarah hesitated.

"Indeed," he placed a morsel of cheese on the end of a fork before sliding it off with his teeth. "As Champion, as Nobility, your position is unique, but I believe you would make a respectable ambassador for our subjects."

"I'm not sure I follow," she bit the side of her lip between her canines.

"You're a human, and a Noble one based on your Championship," he reasoned. "There is no better candidate to speak for our human citizens, than a highly ranked human such as yourself."

"So I have a job?" Sarah puzzled.

"Of sorts," he grinned.

"Of sorts? Let me guess it's unpaid," she rolled her eyes.

"Indeed not," Jareth sat up looking affronted. "You will be paid out of my treasury. Of course, if you can handle being in my employ."

Sarah grimaced. No, she really couldn't but earning her pay and having an actual job made a huge difference to her purpose here. A reason to stay, or something to distract her from missing Toby. Something to aspire to instead of the same routine of farm work. It may even be enjoyable.

"What exactly would I have to do?"

"Visit the towns, take note of any complaint, liaise with me so we can fix or remedy their issues," he lay back down, his affront, mollified. "I will pay you handsomely."

"The Spriggets deserve to have something extra to play with," Sarah smiled. "They work so hard, and I've never paid a cent for my stay. It will be good to give something back."

Jareth frowned. "I'd be paying you, not the Spriggets, Sarah."

"Yes, but I'd be paying my way to stay in their house," Sarah reminded him. "I will still have to live somewhere."

Jareth's nostrils flared, but he turned away to look over the water without another word.

Sarah blinked before helping herself to more food. They sat in silence, listening to the birdsong drifting across the breeze, and the faint ripples of the water as it gently lapped at the fern-like pattern.

"So I assume I'd start after the ball?"

Some of the tension left his face as he turned back to look at her. "Whenever you like. I shall accompany you on tour, and introduce you to your Second-in-charge. I will be on hand until you're comfortable with the job. I won't throw you in the deep end, Sarah."

"My second?"

"An assistant of sorts," he gave a soft smile. "A human most likely, to help with paperwork and logistics."

"Ah, thank you," Sarah mumbled. "That's thoughtful."

"Once you get comfortable, you'll have no issues," he sat back up. "You were designed for the job. You already charmed three of my subjects against me."

Sarah allowed herself a small smile when she determined he was speaking in jest.

"Thank you for this," she smiled again. "Especially when it's not like I'm going to be sticking around forever."

"Where else do you plan on going? Jareth's face paled, imperceptibly.

"I'm not going to give up on getting Toby back," Sarah gritted her teeth. "I can't help him down here."

Jareth frowned. "So you still want to go Aboveground?"

"Yes, when I have a plan," she realised he could just send her back right here and now, but something was preventing her from asking him to do so. Not merely the reality of so much time having had transpired or the fact she had magic or Jareth notifying her she had all but ceased ageing. Nor was she being held back by her title or her position.

With horror, she realised that she had never been happier Underground, than these past two days arguing and bickering with the Goblin King, despite the overhanging sorrow of Terry's departure. As if in slow motion, the realisation dawned on her and she didn't like it. She could admit she was attracted to him, but enjoying his insolent company was going too far.

With the horror metamorphosing within her as adrenaline, she suddenly felt the need to get away from him. She found herself pushing out of the pillow pit and her feet slowly leading her along the frond back to the main trunk. She found the exit and started running, running to escape, running to burn off the adrenaline, running to ignore her growing attraction for her once-enemy-recently turned ally.

She didn't know how long she ran. Only when Sarah noticed the shadow of an owl appear before her, she stopped, gasping for breath and clutching her side.

Jareth descended as a barn owl on top of the wall directly in front of her. He tipped his head and then with a swoop of his wings, landed on the ground as his fae-self.

"Sarah, you may be the Champion, but please don't run off into the Labyrinth again," he said with anger dripping off every syllable. "She protects you, but somethings even we can not save you from."

Sarah puffed and weakly nodded as she tried to catch her breath. The stern look left his face, replaced by concern.

"Why did you run away?" his voice soft, uncertain, raw.

"Because I felt an unfamiliar feeling and it terrified me," Sarah answered honestly between breaths. "I want to go home. I want Toby back. But I realise I can't - I can't."

"Sarah, I am still planning a way to -"

Not that," she shook her head, dark hair flying everywhere. "I can't go back. I can't go back home."

"I can send you back if that's what you truly want -"

"Corporally, maybe," she laughed bitterly. "But not emotionally or mentally. You're right. You haven't said it in so many words, but you're right. I don't belong there anymore."

"And do you belong here, Sarah?"

"Yes, no, I don't know," she flapped her hands around in annoyance. "Certainly the Labyrinth thinks I belong. I feel it; I know it, but it's not whole."

Jareth quirked a brow in blatant confusion.

"I can't explain," she turned away from him, clutching her elbows in each hand. "You probably think I'm ridiculous, but the Labyrinth is my home. I belong, but something is missing."

"I don't think so at all," he said smoothly. "Aside from running off and your earlier refusal to attend the ball with me, you're not ridiculous, not for feeling like you belong here."

Both brows raised, she spun around to face him again. He stood, hands behind his back, an amused look plastered on his pale face.

"You feel it because it's true," he carried on, undeterred by Sarah's lack of response. "As for what's missing, I could hazard a guess, but I don't think my guess would be particularly welcome to you right now."

Searching his face, she could only sense earnestness and no dishonest intent.

"You're probably right," Sarah agreed. Any theory of his was bound to be suggestive. "I probably don't want to know what your guess is."

A shadow flitted across his face, yet he regained composure within seconds. He held out his hand.

"Shall we return to our repast or would you like to return to the castle?"

Eyeing his hand, she considered her choice. "Could we not just walk a little while?"

Jareth nodded, retracting his hand.

"Unless you're in a hurry to return to your castle," she prodded.

"Indeed not," he walked in pace with her. "I much prefer to remain in your company."

"I didn't take you for a sucker for punishment," Sarah laughed breezily.

"How is walking with you a punishment?"

"Well, I am no Ttchl or Pifinarifa, but probably just as belligerent with regards to you," Sarah teased.

"Ttchl and pifinarifa," he scratched his chin. "You know these creatures?"

"The youngest Spriggets were determined that I am "Sarah" who either saved babies or goblins from either the Ttchl or Pifinarifa," Sarah explained. "Then I married a Prince or a King or no-one at all. My origin story was a bone of contention with the children. I, of course, preferred the version where I didn't marry a soul, and would rather take my chances with a Ttchl."

"You never told them the truth?"

"How could I?" Sarah rubbed her forehead. "If I told them who I was, they may have shipped me off to you straight away."

"You're here with me now, and is it that inadequate?"

"Jareth, I- " She recoiled at the use of his name. "I mean, Your Majesty, I didn't know how vindictive you would be. I didn't want to risk my life or my chances of getting back to Toby by rousing your ire."

"Please, dispense with my title," he clasped his hands behind his back as they continued walking. "Your fears are understandable, and however reasonable they are, they remain unjustified. You are right to not trifle with the fae. However, you're under the Labyrinth's protection, and now mine."

His hand reached out and tapped her silver bracelet. "Please be rest assured that your life is in no danger from me."

"I believe you," Sarah smiled. "But you know that. You must be aware of how persuasive you are."

Jareth cocked his head and offered a complacent smirk. "I am, but I have no power over you, remember?"

"And yet, you have convinced me my life will come to no harm with you," Sarah reiterated.

"I am relieved," he exhaled. "At least your hate of me no longer encompasses fear for your life."

"But that doesn't mean you won't find other ways to trick me or torture me," Sarah murmured. "Keeping me alive is the bare minimum."

"We're allies, I have no reason to harm you in any shape or form," his face lined with anguish. "Sarah, there is something I need to tell you."

He stopped her with his hand on her elbow, suddenly looking years older; his face worn, and lined, his brow furrowed and his eyes glazed with trepidation.

"Sarah, I - "

"Your Majesty," came a squeaky voice from behind them. They both turned to see a goblin hovering in the entranceway to their current corridor.

"What?" Jareth barked, with his hand still resting on her elbow. "What is it, ChipChop?"

"It's Prince Sevlydi in your throne room. Says it's 'mergency," ChipChop blurted in one breath.

Jareth closed his eyes and growled, his hand subconsciously gripping tighter to her elbow.

"Sarah, we have to go back," he pulled her closer to him. Sarah instinctively closed her eyes.

When they were grounded, she saw Sevlydi pacing back and forth in Jareth's throne room.

"Prince Sevlydi, what is it?" Jareth asked in a strained regal voice, as he released Sarah's arms from his hold. Sevlydi's eyes flicked to Sarah and back to Jareth. "Whatever you came to say, you can say in front of her."

Sarah flushed at the amount of trust Jareth placed in her at that moment. He must esteem her bring her into their confidence.

Sevlydi narrowed his eyes at her. "I don't think I can."

"Say it," Jareth growled. "She has my trust."

"So be it," Sevlydi clenched his fists. "I was with - with Rica, and a Goblin caught us."

Sarah frowned. Who was Rica? Why would it matter if a goblin caught him?

"Caught as in?" Jareth placed two fingers across his lips.

"As in _caught_ with Rica," his eyes flicked to Sarah as if challenging her to judge him. Sarah kept her facial expressions as neutral as she could manage. "We have a spy in our midst."

* * *

_"We have a spy in our midst,"_ seemed to echo around the room.

Jareth's face paled. "A goblin?"

"Yes, a goblin," Sevlydi growled. "Someone must have corrupted him because it certainly wasn't you that sent him."

"Just so," Jareth rubbed his forehead. "Firstly, take Rica into hiding. I recommend Rolom Hills or Galeci Peninsula. Then return here. You absolutely must not have any contact with him after that. That is until we know who that information ends up with, and what we discover they use it for."

Sevlydi nodded as his eyes flicked to Sarah, who remained uncomfortably still and silent.

"If they know about us, then we can assume they know about -" Sevlydi began.

"That is my problem, Sev, not yours," he dismissed his brother's concerns, though it had occurred to him that whoever was using his goblin to spy on his brother, was probably in receipt of the knowledge of Terry, or his plans to marry Sarah. If he was correct about his theories concerning the responsibility for the corruption of his goblin, then it was plausible Jareth would face the High Court for trying to select his personal choice of a bride, over Forsythia. His cousin, the High King, had given him time to find his wife, but he had pushed the boat out on that one.

"Trust me, brother," he strode forward to cup his brother's face in his hands. "Lady Sarah is my ally, and I trust her. Now go and keep your love safe."

Sevlydi tossed one more glance at Sarah's frozen form, before disappearing from the spot.

"He has a gay lover," Sarah stated when they were alone again.

"He does," Jareth confirmed as he turned back to face her. "I know that doesn't bother you."

"Of course not," Sarah swallowed. "But it is illegal for him, and you is it not?"

"It is illegal for royalty, indeed," he nodded gravely. "Are you concerned?"

"He may not like me, but he doesn't deserve to have his relationship jeopardised because of who he loves," Sarah shook her head. Her rich dark, silky hair shimmering in the dim light of his throne room. How he longed to run his fingers through her locks, and smooth away the worries that collected upon her brow. "Will he get into much trouble?"

"He may have to face court, but Rica may have to face worse," he shuddered. He had been so careless. His preoccupation with Sarah had potentially exposed Sevlydi, by riling up Nudalun and Omre. That was one theory. He strongly suspected Meffod and Yarbro Pinnsburr, but his half-siblings had to be the puppet masters. The Pinnsburr's had longed for revenge, potentially having killed Sarah's parents, driven Toby away, kidnapped Sarah and now going after his brother. Now that Sarah was out of their reach, they were finding other ways to try and hurt him. It made him want to cling to Sarah all the more. "It may not have escaped your notice, that I am not very popular with my half brother and sister. They long to punish me for reasons only they know."

"Perhaps your human side?" Sarah suggested.

"Come, come," he laughed. "Do not give me a reasonable answer. You are supposed to disparage my character and sling crushing insults about my person."

"I can if you like," Sarah grinned. "Your pants are too tight, and your hair reminds me of Tina Turner."

"I know of this Tina Turner you speak of," he chuckled. "Usually, I would punish insults to my hair, but she is an exceptional singer, much admired in your world. I will take it as a compliment. Try again."

"Fine, your pants are too tight, and you wear too much make-up," Sarah shrugged with a grin that was driving him wild. He wanted to kiss it off her face.

"Ah, I am so glad you noticed the tightness of my pants," he grinned even wider watching the blush stain her cheeks. "And I wear no make-up."

"It's natural?" she indicated her brows, eyes and nose.

"They are fae markings," he leaned forward. "You can touch it if you want. See if it comes off."

He watched the struggle play out across her face before she tentatively reached a hand out to him. He leant in closer and nearly cried with exuberance, as her fingers brushed his skin. He tried to remain neutral, but it was arduous as she was touching him for the first time willingly, as himself. He examined her green eyes as she explored his face, noticing little flecks around her iris. She was so close he could smell her enticing aroma of magic mixed with cinnamon, vanilla and sugar. He watched as she glanced at her fingertips.

"Wow," she breathed.

"Perfectly natural," he triumphed. "But I can just as easily change the colours, remove them, lighten them, enhance them or deepen them."

"Huh," Sarah rubbed her fingertips with her thumb. "Cool trick."

"You're easily impressed."

"I don't have access to magic, remember and still have to put my make-up on the mortal way," she stuck her hand on her hip.

"Give it time, Sarah," he reassured her. "Your magic will manifest, and you can have magnificent brows and hair too."

Sarah's eyes darted to his hair, and then back to his face with a sceptical look. He mimicked her stance and then held out a warning finger to her.

"Do not even think about criticising my hair," he admonished playfully.

Sarah took a few steps back. "It looks like a well-maintained bird's nest."

"How fast can you run, Sarah?" he gave a mock, malicious smile.

Sarah's eyes widened before she shrieked and turned away to run out of the throne room. He watched her leave with a predatory grin. He gave her a few moments before he transported out of the chamber.

* * *

Sarah darted away from the Goblin King, trying to breathe, run and not laugh all at the same time. What had come over them? Sevlydi was possibly in trouble, and here they were playing 'chase' like a couple of school children. She was for all intents and purpose, currently playing a game with the King of the Goblins.

She ran down every corridor she came across, occasionally glancing behind her for signs of pursuit. When she ascertained no danger, she finally pulled to a standstill, hands on her hips and she peered around the corner for her predator giving chase. The corridors were still empty, and she became a little unnerved as she slowly gained her breath back and her stitch subsided.

She took another look down the still very much empty hall when she suddenly felt two strong hands wrap around her waist. She couldn't help the fright she got, nor the accompanying scream. Jareth spun her around in his arms, and she could see his mirth etched into every line of his face; his eyes crinkled and creased with laughter. She swatted his shoulder with her hand.

"Cheater," she accused him.

"Indeed," he laughed. "We never set down any rules."

Sarah just harrumphed and tried to wriggle free from his grasp.

"Thank you," he said, bringing one hand up to brush her stray hair out of her face. Sarah felt a rising alarm at being held so intimately by him. "You took my mind off my brother and his troubles, and that is not an easy task."

Sarah closed her eyes to his touch and sensed, rather than felt her body shiver.

It seemed to be the cue that recalled Jareth to his senses. He closed his eyes, sighed and extracted his hands from her hair and around her waist.

"We should go and prepare for dinner," he said with reluctance. "And start discussing the plans for the ball. The invites have gone out already."

"That was quick," Sarah had wondered how it was all going to happen in two days.

* * *

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Credit to Duran Duran for the lyrics borrowed from Come Undone. And the creators of the Labyrinth for everything else, not mine.
> 
> I have 2 more completed chapters ready to go once they've been edited. And one more chapter half-finished. Thank you to anyone who had commented or followed, or even just read :) Chapter 13 is the ball (how poetic is that coincidence with the chapter number?)


	14. Chapter Thirteen

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

The two days before the ball, passed in a blur of organisation, dress-fittings and mayhem. Sarah had attempted, with Jareth's aid, to contact Hilary through a mirror portal to no avail. Aside from meals, she barely saw Jareth. She didn't want to admit that it irked her somewhat to mostly be in the company of goblins, instead of spending her time with Jareth. Perhaps that was how he had felt for all these isolated years.

Having learnt his ancestor was a human, Sarah couldn't help but think it softened him, and she appreciated how lonely Jareth must be in his castle for all existence.

She was softening, but she wasn't detracting her claws just yet.

The morning of the ball, she rose early and broke her fast alone in her room. She was sensing an increase in her nerves at the thought of being presented to all those people. She wondered if she would know anyone. Jareth had told her that her friends would be present, but she never clarified which friends he was alluding to.

After breakfast, various goblins visited her, tying up loose ends. Sarah had half expected Jareth to visit her. She assumed he was too busy with the ball, and his brother. She knew that Sevlydi had returned to the castle, but had only seen him once. There had been no news, and Sarah had thought that was a good thing.

It wasn't.

"The fae like to lull you into a false sense of security," Jareth had told her, in a rare moment where they had seen each other. "They will torture you for days, weeks, months, years even until the guilt of your crime almost paralyses you."

"Love is not a crime," Sarah had wrinkled her nose in disgust.

"And if I am ever High King, I will ensure your statement is correct," he had promised. He was fifth in line after his siblings, and Nudalun's two children, so his chances were very slim. And apparently, he would have to disband or convince the High Council to change the rules too. "I have a better chance of reversing the curse, than becoming High King."

Sarah had asked if they could reverse the curse, to which Jareth had announced his ignorance, but simultaneous delight that she wanted to have his children. She had rewarded his flirtation with a roll of her eyes, and she may have called him an incorrigible philanderer.

Whenever they had seen each other, their encounters had traversed the entire spectrum from polite, to flirtatious, to downright angry. Sarah was still adamant that she only saw attraction and lust in Jareth, and nothing more profound. However, as she sat there alone in her room reading, she couldn't deny how she wished for his company, even if it was just to sling an insult at him over his egregious temper, or his blatant arrogance. Or to tease him about his marriage to Forsythia, a fact Sevlydi had divulged the one time she'd seen him.

As the hours crawled by, and the goblins arrived to help her get ready, she had given up on seeing the Goblin King before the ball. She considered herself strong in spirit, although she distinctly felt his endorsement would be reassuring before she entered the dragon's den.

Sarah was submerged in her tub, wondering what Jareth's bathroom was like compared to hers. She closed her eyes, imagining what lavishness and luxury he had. Presumably, way more regality than her indisputably exquisite bathroom. She immersed herself under the hot water, squeezing her eyes shut as she resurfaced. Sarah hummed an ABBA song, that was stuck in her head, as she reclined back.

* * *

Jareth was frustrated. With all the ball preparation and his brother's dilemma, he had barely seen Sarah. To have her in his castle, and under his power, but denied any quality time with her was exasperating. Now it was the day of the ball, and possibly his last opportunity to woo her as she was stubbornly insistent she was returning to Ghent on the morrow.

He had so many plans for her tonight: he desired to tell her how she would get access to her magic, perhaps get an affirmative answer to his question of courting, and he may even get lucky with a kiss. However, it was enough that he would have her on his arm and dancing with her all night.

Jareth had planned to spend the morning with her, but then Nudalun and Omre arrived early. He had sent an invitation to them both but hadn't expected them to appear. Yet, come they did, and as a result, he had to answer a thousand questions about his Champion. He remained infuriatingly vague.

They had invited Forsythia. When Sarah had asked to be reminded who that was, Sevlydi had told her, "Jareth's punishment if he doesn't marry soon."

He wasn't amused to notice Sarah's delight at this tidbit of news.

"Is she awful?" Sarah asked with glee.

"She is," Sevlydi had grinned back at her. Jareth couldn't say he was pleased they were finally bonding over ridiculing him. "It's the fondest wish of his family, and hers, that they join in marriage."

"If she is truly awful, I couldn't be happier, then," Sarah flicked him a mischievous grin. Jareth glared at Sevlydi, daring, no, imploring him to bring up the pearl again to remind Sarah that it was her destiny to marry him. Sevlydi just smirked, damn him.

With a sigh, he divested himself of his attire, sauntering through to his bath chamber. Entering the room, he moved past the privacy screen before he got the surprise of his life.

Sarah; the woman who he coveted, adored, desired, and who he was just thinking about, was lying naked in his bath. He had to be dreaming.

"Sarah?"

* * *

"Sarah?"

Sarah's eyes shot open. There standing naked in front of her was The Goblin King, looking down upon her in confusion. She slammed her eyes shut, again, and covered her body as much as she could with bubbles and her limbs. Jareth hadn't even attempted to cover himself from her. His species certainly lacked modesty.

"What the hell?" she cried. "Why are you in my bathroom?"

"Precious, this is _my_ bathroom," she heard him say before she detected the sound of him entering the bath. Surges of bathwater washed over her as he hopped in, she peeked out under her eyes to ascertain how many bubbles she had lost. "Forgive me I thought I had better make myself decent so we could talk with your eyes open."

"It would be more decent if you weren't in my bath," Sarah spat, trying to scrub the image of his nakedness out of her brain.

"Again, it's _my_ bath, precious," Jareth clicked his tongue at her.

Sarah peeked out from under her lids, opening them wide when she was conscious she was indeed no longer in her bathroom. It was surprisingly similar to hers, but with more black and gold embellishments and a slightly different layout.

"What the fuck?"

Jareth tilted his head with a complacent smile. "I'm honoured you graced me with your presence, precious."

"I did not," she ground out. "I was in my bath with my eyes closed, and I opened them to this."

"Interesting," he rubbed his chin.

"Do you have an explanation?"

"What were you thinking about when you had your eyes closed?"

Sarah had focused on not letting Jareth provoke her. He'd get satisfaction out of any displays of her verecund reactions. While she could handle her nakedness, and to a lesser extent, his nudity, she could not handle informing him of the contents of her daydream.

"I had a song stuck in my head," she shrugged deftly, to not displace her layer of bubbles.

"And what was the song?"

"An ABBA song."

"You have to help me out here, precious," he grinned. Sarah observed the ends of his hair adhering to his dewy skin, sending streams of bathwater down his torso. It diverted her from what was below the water surface and helped her avoid his piercing gaze as she spoke with him.

"I Have a Dream," she clarified, blinking away her shame.

"And how does it go?"

"How is this helpful?"

"Well, if your magic is trying to manifest, it may have done so by the power of music," he explained. "How does the song go?"

"I'm not singing," she maintained.

"I will summon your crystal I gave you then," he sighed, and three seconds later, held her crystal.

"I Have a Dream by ABBA," he hummed into the glass ball. The song started, reverberating off all the surfaces. Jareth watched her with a guarded look, as she pressed her face into her hands in her vexation.

"Interesting song to have stuck in your head, considering my role in your dreams," he smirked.

Sarah wrinkled her nose. "Songs get stuck in my head _all_ the time. I had 'Return of the Mac' stuck there for two weeks once and I don't even like that song. It doesn't mean anything."

"If you see the wonder of a fairy tale, you can take the future even if you fail," Jareth sang, his eyes fixed on her. Sarah, naked, aroused and confused, nearly convulsed with desire at the sound of Jareth's singing. "You _could_ have taken the future, _even_ if you _had_ failed, you know. I think it means a fair bit."

"So how does that explain how I got here?" Sarah interrupted his analytics.

"Hmmm, I am not sure," he twisted her crystal around his wrist. "I suspect you must have focussed on something else in that pretty little head of yours."

He rolled the crystal across the water as Sarah rolled her eyes. She caught the physics-denying, floating crystal. "So, how do I get back to my suite, without the mortification of departing naked out of your rooms?"

"It is an honour to be seen in disarray leaving my chambers," he gave her a pointy-toothed smile.

"One that you have indubitably bestowed upon thousands of women," Sarah said, sardonically.

"And men."

Sarah quirked her eyebrow imperceptibly. "Good for you."

"It was good for me," he grinned. "You can't tell me that you don't enjoy the pleasures of the flesh, Sarah."

"Not like you," she laughed. "And also I believe in fidelity, so unquestionably unlike you."

"Sarah, do I give you the impression that I practice infidelity?" his face was a mask of gravity.

"You certainly cheat," Sarah rolled the crystal in her hand. "I still want my three hours back."

"Human's preach constancy, but rarely practice it," Jareth ignored her statement regarding her Labyrinth run.

"True, but I can count on one hand the number of times I have cheated on a partner," she held up a closed fist. "But the tally of times my husband cheated on me would require at least another two hands."

"And you will tar me with the same brush," Jareth said, with disbelief.

"You ooze the aura of a philanderer," Sarah retorted.

"I ooze sexuality, not betrayals of trust," he crossed his bare arms over his naked chest.

"Well, I beg to differ," Sarah tipped her chin in emphasis. "You are supposed to be marrying Forsythia, who is awful, yet, you sit here naked with me in a tub."

"My family want me to marry her," he scowled. "There is no agreement between us. And sitting naked together in a bath, is not my idea of infidelity. Though granted, she is awful."

"How is she awful?" Sarah's interest was piqued. Was she Lady Catherine's de Burgh's daughter to her Elizabeth? She mentally shook her head. That would make her Elizabeth, and she wasn't having that. However, this information also proved the stupid pearl theory wrong, so that made her happy. Didn't it?

"She is insipid, weak and dull," he yawned in emphasis. "It would be like being married to a mannequin, pretty to look at, extremely boring to talk to."

"You surprise me," Sarah grinned. "That's exactly the type of personality I imagined for you. Don't you want to be silently worshipped by your wife?"

"No."

They slipped into silence, Sarah from surprise, and Jareth from his private thoughts.

"As much fun as it has been bickering with you, could you please send me back to my bathroom? And as fully respectably as you can manage."

He nodded with a tight smile. "Close your eyes and imagine your bathroom. Let's see if you can manage it on your own, first."

Sarah cast a sceptical look but tried it anyway. She squinted out of one eye to see Jareth still sitting opposite her in the tub.

"Unless I have taken you with me, I am still here."

"We haven't moved," he summoned up a crystal and threw it to her. She caught it on instinct, instantly disappearing and reappearing in her bathroom. And just in time too, as two goblins scurried into the room with her towel and robe.

* * *

As Sarah disappeared, he leant his head back against the side of the bath, groaning. She remained resolved to think ill of him. No matter the progress they had made, she still considered him the scoundrel. He was perenially her villain, despite his efforts to woo her. He liked the challenge she gave him. It was a drawcard, assuredly, but it was also serving against him. He was a sexual and flirtatious creature, as entwined in his fae nature as mischief was for his goblins. He could ascertain that Sarah had no issue with the sheer quantity of his lovers, but she had an objection to cheating.

However, Jareth had never been in a monogamous relationship before, so his track record for infidelity was skewed. There was the druid, but it was so short-lived, he didn't even have the time to look elsewhere. Sarah was different. Sarah was to be his wife, and he knew now, it was not just in name. She was a human, yes, one that contained magic and was fae-touched, but her ideals and standards were not those of the Underground. He would have to rise to meet her standards, and not expect her to lower herself to meet his.

The very thought of her lying with anyone aside from him made his blood boil and vexed him exceedingly. So to earn her respect and forgiveness, he couldn't consider betraying her the way she expected him to. Especially by marrying that awful Forsythia. Jareth felt a twinge of resentment that Sarah didn't seem at all jealous of the news of his family's plans for him. If he didn't know better, he would think Sarah almost would be glad to see him married to the Pinnsburr girl.

Despite Jareth's vexation, at her repugnance, a crooked, little smile crept on to his face. Sarah had to have been thinking about him, to have ended up in his bath. Oh, he played the game with the song, but the reality was she would have been envisioning him, to have been able to transport herself like that. She had been very vigilant with her bubble placement, and he had avoided risking her trust to take any liberties with her. Despite Sarah's confidence and apparent lack of embarrassment, he wasn't going to overstep any boundaries. However, the thrill of having her in his bath naked was enough for him to have difficulties hiding his arousal from her.

Jareth didn't have time to take care of it now, with the ball looming around the corner. He also didn't want to expend energy on turning time back when he was going to use his magic for Sarah's protection throughout the night.

* * *

Thankfully, Sarah was back in her bath, sans Jareth. She climbed out and briskly dried herself with a towel, the goblin named Cookie, had given her. Wearing a bathrobe, she crossed to the vanity, where a servant called Cricket took charge of her ornamentation and make-up.

"Lady wants to wear the necklace that matches?" the goblin, Cricket, suggested pointing at Sarah's bracelet. She had forgotten about Terry's necklace. She had nearly completely forgotten about Terry; her mind had been so full of Jareth. She touched her neck, considering, before shaking her head.

"No, thank you, Cricket," she stroked the blue-haired goblin lightly on its gnarled hand.

Eventually, Sarah was dressed, in a full-length orchid-coloured silk dress with silver beading and crystal flowers. She wore the bracelet and a simple pearl necklace of white, not purple and green like the one on her bangle. Her hair was curled, and inlaid with silver and purple flowers.

Sarah was escorted to the ballroom by a goblin called Shook, the train of the gown dragging across the stone floor as she walked. Smaller organza trains adorned the sleeves of the dress flowing seamlessly into the many silk and chiffon layers of the skirt.

Breathing deeply, she approached the grand ballroom's intricately carved double oak doors. She felt ready, despite all her misgivings.

"Lady enters now," Shook pointed to the doors opening by themselves.

As the doors opened, a loud disembodied voice announced her. "Lady Sarah Williams, Hi'livé, Champion of the Labyrinth, and Human Ambassador for the Goblin Kingdom."

So she already had her ambassador title without having started any work in the job. She shoved the thought aside, entering through the double doors. Sarah descended the marble steps so guardedly she remarkably didn't trip over her train, skirts or high-heeled shoes.

The hall was bursting with bodies, and those bodies had faces that were all looking at her.

Before Sarah's kidnapping, Hilary took her to see a film called 'Ever After.' In the movie, the main character attended a ball, reminding herself to breathe as she entered. Sarah did this herself as she looked down on the sea of unfriendly faces.

"Just breathe."

And they were unfriendly. Even Jareth looked upon her with haughty indifference. Perhaps he was still annoyed at her for accusing him of being an unfaithful cheat. It surprised her he would take on so. He usually had enough arrogance to rebuff any of her attempts to shame him.

Sarah stepped towards him, as instructed. Standing in front of him, she observed that his eyes remained cold and proud. She wouldn't flinch under his scrutiny, lifting her chin, she gave an identical expression in return. Imperceptibly, he gave her a nod of the head. She stooped into a curtsey, low, respectful, and gaze averted. Jareth indicated she accompany him on his right-hand side after she straightened from her obeisance.

Sarah kept her nerves under control, throwing all her acting into remaining aloof while fae and elf were announced and subsequently introduced to her. In a lull, Jareth shifted slightly, speaking to her out of the corner of his mouth.

"You're doing well, Precious," he murmured. Sarah took heart at his words, and though her face remained impassive, her eyes twinkled with reassurance.

Focussed on her deportment, Sarah couldn't retain anyone's names. However, one name stood out to her. A blonde fae, with an insipid smile, dipped into a low curtsy for Jareth, but barely offered a nod to her. She looked through Sarah as if she wasn't even there. Sarah recognised Forsythia's name straight away, as the woman Jareth was supposed to marry. The "barely a nod," made some kind of sense.

After the formalities transpired, Jareth held his hand out for her, and lead her to open the dancing. One hand around her waist, and the other clasping her hand, he twirled her in time to the string-heavy music.

"You look exquisite as always, Sarah," his voice husky and deep.

"Thank you," Sarah blushed as his once cold eyes, set on her with warmth. "You look handsome, Jareth."

And he did, he wore a deep aubergine-purple jacket, paired with dark grey trousers and black boots. The ruffles, gloves, and other embellishments were a light grey to silver, complementing her trimmings, except for his medallion, that remained silver and gold, on a black thread. His hair had streaks of the deep purple in line with his jacket. Sarah was surprised there wasn't a single gram of glitter anywhere on his body.

"My title, remember," he whispered, his mouth close to her ear. "Though I have longed to hear you say my name more often. Save it for when we're alone."

Sarah suppressed a shiver at his words, nodding in assent. "Where are all your siblings?"

"Sevlydi is sulking near the refreshment tables, and the other two have yet to make their appearance," his hand on her waist tensed. "They'll turn up fashionably late. Our family lives for dramatic entries."

Sarah scoffed. "I am still surprised at the amount of glitter I was finding in my parent's room for weeks after your dramatic entry. I kept thinking I had cleaned it all, and you were just sneaking in and dumping more."

Jareth chuckled. "I am so pleased to hear that you rate my entry so highly."

Why did such a beautiful laugh have to be attached to such a horrid creature?

"I rated it no such thing," Sarah swatted his shoulder, playfully with her hand. "Karen thought I had been doing arts and crafts in their room. I remember her saying that she didn't mind if I made my princess crowns, but why did I have to do it in their room?"

"Are you fond of crowns?" his face turned serious.

"Not anymore," Sarah glanced away from his burning gaze. "Don't worry, Your Majesty, your crown is safe from me."

"Ah, not planning a coup anytime soon then?" Jareth returned to his breezy self.

Sarah shook her head with a small smile. She passed the rest of their dance in silence, briefly wondering if she would see Terry amongst the crowd. She had yet to see any of her friends, but the night was young. Sarah wondered how Terry would react, seeing her in the arms of his King and ex-employer. Not that he probably had an invite, or would be welcome if he had turned up.

When the dance finished, Jareth asked her if she wanted any refreshments, leading her to the tables festooned with platters upon platters of sumptuous fare. She nibbled on a pastry as she watched the other dancers swirl around the hall. It was a blur of mostly neutral coloured guests, wearing various shades of white, grey and tan, making the host and his honoured guest stand out against them all the more. The purple and silver themes of their attire stretched to the drapes hanging from the ceiling, to the flowers sitting upon plinths.

A lengthy amount of time had passed before Jareth enticed her into another dance. Sarah realised with incredulous humour that it was an instrumental version of 'Come On Eileen.' Sarah uproariously laughed as Jareth looked upon her with amused complacency.

It was after this song that Sarah found her friends. Not just Hoggle, and the rest of the trio, but the Spriggets as well. Hoggle, Ludo and Sir Didymus, all bowed low to her.

"Our Champion," Sir Didymus intoned.

"Stop it, guys," Sarah blushed. "I am still just Sarah."

'Sawah still friend?" Ludo asked.

"Of course," Sarah smiled.

"I ain't believing you danced with the rat," was all Hoggle had to say in a hushed manner as she hugged him. If Jareth heard, he remained impassive. She had a dance with all three of her friends before she went to find the Spriggets. Jareth was mingling with the lords and ladies of his realm, occasionally coaxing Sevlydi to be a bit more lively.

Sarah approached the Spriggets with trepidation. They hadn't known who she was, and she felt like she had lied to them for the past two years. As she neared them, she considered that they might not welcome her back into their home. It hadn't occurred to her in all this time they may not accept her betrayal.

"Helena, Liam," she greeted them warmly, trying to hide her nerves.

"Lassie," Liam inclined his head. "You have moved up in the world."

Peggy barrelled out from behind Helena's skirts and threw herself into Sarah. She hugged that little scrap of life for all she was worth. She greeted the other members while still carrying Peggy.

'It was so good of you all to come," Sarah beamed.

"Couldn't refuse an invite from the King, little lass," Liam patted her on the shoulder. "Here we thought you were going to be wooed by Terry, and we find you in the arms of the King instead."

Helena scoffed. "You know my views on the monarchy, girl, as they are similar to yours," she frowned. "For all his handsomeness, I would have thought you preferred Terry."

"Firstly, it's not like that, with either gentleman," Sarah professed. "And secondly, Terry is no longer in the picture."

"Oh, dear, lass, what happened?" Liam frowned.

"He turned out to be a little bit of a scoundrel," she shrugged. "He left me here and did a runner."

"That is most unusual," Helena empathised. "How much longer do you plan on staying here?"

"I have a paid job," Sarah beamed, pushing away her feelings on Terry. "So as soon as that it all finalised, I can return home and pay my way."

Sarah tried to ignore the looks exchanged between husband and wife.

"We never expected you to pay your way, lass," Liam frowned.

"But you have taken a stranger in, and I would like to pay you back for your kindness," Sarah implored.

"We won't discuss this now," Helena chimed in. "Tell us, how you managed to keep it secret that you were the Sarah from the stories: the Champion of the Labyrinth."

Sarah told her story, her fear of discovery, and her worries for her brother. When she finished, Jareth returned to lead her in yet another dance. She thanked him profusely for inviting her friends.

"You are welcome," his eyes never leaving her face as they swayed. "It is _your_ ball, after all!"

When that dance concluded, they took respite on the edge of the ballroom. Jareth was chatting to someone next to him, on his other side, when Sarah felt, rather than saw, someone watching her intensely.

Forsythia stood opposite her with steel daggers for eyes, pointed at her. Sarah raised her head in acknowledgement and gave her a sympathetic smile. Forsythia's scowl deepened, without returning the smile. Forsythia then raised her wine glass with her middle finger pointed towards her. Sarah bit back a laugh. Jareth discerned her movement because he looked down at her and then followed her gaze.

"Ah, yes, my future bride," his scowl matched hers. "You find her amusing?"

"I find her hostility towards me, curious," Sarah admitted. "I have never met her, so I should be nothing to her."

"Do not be so quick to dismiss yourself, Sarah," he leaned down, whispering in her ear. "You do not need to compare your worth to hers. You win every time."

Sarah felt her insides contract in what she was shocked to discover was satisfaction. Her eyes flicked back to Forsythia, and she gave her another warm smile before taking Jareths's proffered arm. She couldn't endure jealousy. Forsythia had no reason to be envious of her situation when that circumstance entailed being without her family, friends and far from home. Also, out of the two of them, Forsythia had more chance of marriage with Jareth than she did. Despite Sevlydi and his stupid pearl.

He led her to meet a few more people, while the awareness of still being watched was incredibly keen. It wasn't much later Sarah and Jareth found themselves dancing again when she felt brave enough to broach the marriage subject.

"Why don't you marry her if it will make your family happy?"

"Would you marry someone you didn't even like to make your family happy?" he rose a brow in query.

"I won't marry again," Sarah repeated her oft-spoken response to the subject of marriage.

"So no," he concluded.

"You already stated you didn't care who you will marry, so why not just marry her?" Sarah looked Forsythia's way. "She quite clearly is into you."

'She is a simpleton, and a puppet," he growled. "You wish the subjugation of your ally, by his siblings?"

"Of course not," she shrugged. "I just thought that if you married her, they would leave you alone and leave poor Sevlydi alone."

"They wouldn't," he pulled her closer. "The only way they would leave me alone in this one aspect of my life is if I chose my bride that they couldn't control."

"So why don't you do that?"

"Are you proposing to me, Lady Sarah?"

"Hardly," Sarah let out a bark of laughter. "I never realised how funny you are when I first met you."

He gave a smile, one that didn't quite reach his eyes, lending his expression one of sadness, rather than joy.

"I happen to be very amusing," he pulled her tighter still. "It is one of my many positive attributes."

"Like your attractiveness and your desirability," she scoffed.

"I also happen to be an excellent kisser," he licked his front teeth. Sarah instinctively knew her eyes darkened with lust at his words, but self-preservation won out, and she jeered yet again.

"I am sure you have had heaps of practice," Sarah teased.

He flicked his eyes heavenwards. "If you keep bringing my history up, and I am going to start thinking you are jealous of all my past lovers."

"You have had centuries," Sarah pointed out. "I have been alive a mere three decades."

The orchestra started a new instrumental song, Sarah instantly recognised as an Aboveground favourite. The atmosphere for kissing was shifting favourably to his inclination, as the music was slow and sensual, igniting passion deep within Sarah's soul. Jareth drew her closer to him. She wouldn't let his strong aroma and warm, hard body distract her from persevering in being his personal-vexation.

He ran his hand up and down her waist. "I am happy to let you practice on me, Precious."

"Or anything that moves," Sarah teased, gripping his hand tighter. "Eh, Your Majesty?"

"Maybe once upon a time," he bit his lip. "Right now, there is only _you_."

Sarah froze in his stare.

"Bog damn it!" Jareth cursed, narrowing his eyes in aggravation.

The bodiless-voice announced Omre and Nudalun. Jareth's face was mere inches from hers, and she realised, shockingly that he had been coming in for a kiss. His eyes closed as he swore again, both hands gripping her tighter in his frustration.

"Let us go and do our duty, love," he released her waist and tucked her hand into his elbow.

Love? That was new and unexpected, but even if Sarah had a chance to question it, she didn't know how she could. While their strange bickering flirtation had been entertaining, she never sensed anything more heartfelt than that. Unless Sevlydi's pearl-theory was genuine which she adamantly refused to accept, then nothing between her and Jareth could be deemed a veneer or facade. What was seen on the surface, is what was there in the heart.

Sarah almost staggered under the weight of her unfounded suspicions. He proposed to her before, so it wasn't entirely in the realm of fantasy. Then there were the bridal pearls, informing Jareth he was destined to marry her. He couldn't love her, though.

Sarah didn't have much opportunity to dwell on these thoughts before she came face to face with the Heir Apparent of Navas and the Queen of the Principality of Haddoyne. If she ever thought Jareth was cold and indifferent, he was nothing in comparison to the two blonde faes in front of her. They were flawless and the very picture of ethereal beauty. Their features, carved from pure, raw marble, adorned with blue stones for eyes and finely woven blonde silk for hair, would make even a supermodel envious. Sarah could see trace amounts of similarities between them, with Jareth, but Jareth had something of warmth about him, that these two were lacking.

Sarah hated them already. Her grip tightened on his arm, both dipping into their respective addresses.

"Goblin King," Nudalun said in a haughty tone. Her voice sent shivers down her spine, and not the pleasant kind.

"Queen Nudalun, Prince Omre, may I present Lady Sarah to you?" Jareth's voice, lined with hatred, cut through Sarah's awe of the two ice statues.

"If you must," Nudalun sighed, impatiently.

Jareth made all the necessary introductions. Omre looked over Sarah's head, while Nudalun only nodded slightly, a severe glance just for her. She was facing Jareth again within seconds. Sarah swallowed her anguish, stepping back in line with Jareth.

"I believe Forsythia Pinnsburr is here tonight," Nudalan addressed Jareth again. "Go find her, Goblin King."

Sarah felt Jareth stiffen beside her. "As you wish."

Jareth gently drew Sarah away from his brother and sister, bowing low as they retreated. She peeked at Jareth through the corner of her eye, his expression, inscrutable. Sarah was no longer surprised he despised his family, after their brief encounter.

"How are you faring, Lady Sarah?" he asked when they had passed out of earshot of the two monarchs.

"That was certainly interesting," Sarah answered. "Your Majesty."

"Yes, but you survived," he led her to an alcove with a velvet seat, indicating that she should sit. "They ignored you, which is the best we could have hoped for."

"Why?" Sarah obeyed, sitting down and smoothing her skirts down. "The best I could hope for was cold indifference?"

"Yes," he knelt in front of her. "They could have dehumanised you in an instant. They could have cut you down with a look, but you withstood them."

"What are you doing on the ground?"

"I am begging your pardon while I leave my lady to go and fetch Miss Pinnsburr," he placed a gloved hand upon her knee. "I am loathed to part from you while they are in residence."

"I am not your anything," Sarah huffed. "You don't need my permission in your castle, to move around your ball. I will be quite fine here."

"I will return for you," he lowered his head over her hand, planting a kiss upon her skin. Sarah jerked her hand away and laughed.

"Stop it," she snickered. "You're scaring me. Stop being a gentleman. And make sure you bring back a lemon cake and a glass of that purple wine."

"Whatever _my_ lady wishes," he then ran his hand along her thigh. "I can play the cad if you desire."

Sarah pushed his hand away, giggling. "I desire cake and purple wine."

"Yes, my love," he said, as he stood up.

As he sauntered off, Sarah called out again. "Oh and Jareth? It's a piece of cake."

He spun around with a grin. "I will find the perfect slice for you, with no cleaners this time."

Jareth winked at her, turning away to find his supposed bride. Sarah smiled to herself. She did enjoy the banter, quite a bit.

Sarah watched Jareth approach Forsythia as he led her to his siblings. Her attention was caught by two faes walking into her eye line, both blonde, one female, one male. They both had their eyes boring into her. They looked like they were about to approach her, but when one spoke into the others ear, they both melted back into the mire of bodies.

Jareth was returning, cake and wine in hand. Sarah glanced towards the royals and saw Forsythia attending to Nudalun, steadily bowing and scraping.

"Your slice of cake, my lady," he passed her the plate. "I warn you the wine is peach-infused. Do you desire it still?"

Sarah sighed, placing her plate on her lap. "Will I wake up in a dream with some pompous Goblin King?"

"The night is young, I can't promise you where it will lead," one side of his mouth curled. "But it won't be a direct result of this wine."

"You're so full of yourself," she muttered, taking the wine. "Why don't you go and annoy someone who likes you?"

"There is no sport in that," he said, coming to sit beside her. "I much prefer to antagonise the girl who defeated me, over any other sop."

"I'm just sport to you?" Sarah placed her hand over her heart in mock hurt.

"Not just," he swirled the wine in his glass. "There is a sporting element of course, but you're so much more than that too."

Sarah raised both brows and took a sip of her drink. It was fruity and sweet, and despite her opposition to peaches, quite refreshing.

"This is quite nice," Sarah took another sip.

"Made from my peaches," he grinned. "I should take you for a tour of the vineyards one day."

"I'm going home tomorrow, remember?"

"And remember you accepted a job with me," he tapped her on the knee with a long finger.

"I'm haven't signed any contracts yet," she tapped him back on his knee.

Quick as a flash, his hand reached out and grabbed her wrist, pulling it towards his mouth to kiss her fingers. Sarah was too stunned to try and take her hand away.

"You can always sign them tomorrow," he gave her hand another kiss.

"What are you doing?" She managed to ask, her voice shaking.

"I'm showing you some affection," he released her hand. "Our people want to see that their King holds their Champion in high esteem."

"Well, I am sorry to put a spanner into your politicking, but please don't," she took a bite of cake, as she watched the dancers twirl by. Jareth didn't say a word, placing his fingers over his mouth.

"Besides, Nuddy and Ommy wouldn't appreciate you giving me attention, over your soon-to-be wife," laughed Sarah, savagely.

"Don't let them hear you call them that," Jareth warned.

The dancers continued moving by them, Sarah sipping her wine and eating her cake in wonder at their elegance. She occasionally spied the two blonde faes watching her, before getting devoured by the crowd. There was something familiar about them.

Jareth sat staring into the crowd, his leg crooked over the other, tapping his knee with one hand, and tapping his mouth with the other. Sarah figured he was bored. She realised, with feelings she didn't assess or qualify, that she would never have the abilities to keep such a mercurial, temperamental fae entertained.

"Why don't you go find someone to warm your bed?" Sarah whispered into his ear. His eyes flicked to her face, observed her mock leer and then he continued in his state of apathy. He didn't even move his hand from his mouth.

As she finished her consumption of food and wine, Jareth asked her to dance again. She obliged with reluctance.

Back in Jareth's arms, she couldn't help observe over his shoulder that she was being watched again by Forsythia.

"Your awful wife has her eyes on me again," Sarah teased.

"Maybe she wants to be your wife, my dear," he said, almost absentmindedly. My dear? First, she was 'precious', then 'his lady', then 'his love' and now 'his dear'. He was full of affectionate names for her tonight. It was befuddling.

"Not to my taste."

Jareth raised his brows.

"Too blonde, too fae," she said deadpan. "Complete opposite of what I want."

Jareth curled his lip. "Perhaps you may find going against your tastes to your liking."

"And who would you recommend?" Sarah asked slyly.

Jareth inhaled but didn't reply. He looked away with an unfathomable, far-away look.

"You?"

"Pardon?" Jareth snapped back to reality.

"Do you recommend yourself?" Sarah asked, pushing herself closer to his body, moving her hand from his shoulder to run her fingers along his neck following the line of his medallion.

His eyes widened and then narrowed almost instantly. "Alcohol doesn't mix well with humans, does it?"

"What do you mean?" Sarah frowned, butting her hips against his hips.

"I don't believe you are yourself, right now," Jareth reasoned.

"Why?"

"You are suggesting-," he deliberated with agitation. "You are acting suggestively."

"Does that make you uncomfortable?" Sarah crooned, pressing herself even closer, feeling his anatomy reacting positively towards hers.

"Sarah, please stop," both pupils matched, having both blown with his evident desire, but he was pushing her away. "That wine may have been a bit potent."

"Don't you want me to warm your bed, Goblin King?" Sarah was starting to slur.

"Sarah, let's get some fresh air," he broke them out of the dance and headed through some heavy violet curtains to a balcony overlooking the Labyrinth. Sarah sucked in lungfuls of fresh Labyrinth air, before rounding on the Goblin King who stood pensively behind her.

"What makes that wine different from Aboveground wine?" Sarah asked, her words running together.

"Faes have stronger constitutions, ergo our wine is stronger," he shrugged. "Will it be suitable to leave you by yourself out here, for a moment, while I fetch you a glass of water?"

Sarah nodded, turning back towards the Labyrinth. She felt fuzzy and hazy from the wine. Not to mention, her libido had been rearing to go, only to be rejected.

She placed her head against the cooling stone of the railing, waiting for Jareth to return.

When he didn't, she slumped into a chair to continue to wait.

A noise brought her out of her drunken stupor, thinking it was Jareth she reached towards him.

"You have returned," she cried dramatically.

"Oh, no dear, I don't think I am who you're waiting for," said a pointy blonde fae lady, one half of the couple that had been watching her all evening. "I anticipate you're waiting for his Majesty."

"Who are you?"

"Meffod of Trew," she replied. That name was familiar. She tried wracking her brain, but Meffod was talking again.

"And you're Sarah, the Champion of the Labyrinth," she spoke plainly. "The only one to have ever denied the fae their prize."

"Well, I like to look at it more like saving my brother," Sarah rejoined. "He is a human being, not a prize."

"And your King had been lax in your run," Meffod of Trew shrugged. "Your victory was hollow."

"My King? Is he not yours too?" Sarah couldn't dispel the nagging feeling in the back of her mind.

"No, silly girl," she snapped. "I am from Trew, a Kingdom vaster and more prosperous than Navas, and unquestionably that of the Goblin Kingdom."

"Why are you here, then?" Sarah frowned, willing Jareth to come back, and let her out of this conversation.

"Ah, that's just it," she grinned, making her features appear pointier still. 'I have some information that you may find useful."

"I have no interest in bartering with a fae," Sarah rose to push past her.

"Even if it concerns your lover, Terry Finn?" she held Sarah firmly by her upper arm. Sarah baulked, pausing in her stride.

"What of him?" Sarah felt her insides corrode with fear and grief. Though he deserved her anger, she didn't want him to have come to actual harm.

"He is not who you think he is," Meffod relaxed her hold on Sarah's arm.

"Then, who is he?"

"He led a double life," she continued.

"Stop being vague, and just tell me," she snapped, before recalling that it was a fae, and the need to tread lightly was critical.

"Ah, I am getting to the point," she grimaced. "I am savouring the pain it will give you."

Sarah dismissed her statement as a purely fae tendency, but couldn't help but amp up her wariness.

"Is that why you tell me freely?"

"Indeed," she grinned, malicious light shining in her hard blue eyes. "It is one of the many perks of you learning the truth."

The contrast between this breed of fae and Jareth was never more startling than now.

"So as I was saying," she went on. "Terry Finn doesn't even exist. He was a figment of the imagination of his creator."

"Ok…"

"Can you guess who created him, hmm?" her voice suddenly saccharine. "Who would want to gain your trust, and then destroy it for petty revenge?"

Sarah could only think of Jareth. He had the motive to exact revenge on her, contrary to his words of reassurance. Terry and Jareth were so unlike each other, but as she tried to focus on the separate images of each of them, they started bleeding into each other.

"No, he wouldn't -," Sarah shook her head in denial.

"Oh, wouldn't he?" she laughed bitterly. "The King of the Goblins thwarted by a mere human mortal. A mortal that he grew attached to, but finally rejected him. And not only does the mortal reject the King but provokes his family to force him into marriage, ultimately ending his bachelor ways. Stop me when you've had enough of his myriad of reasons for wanting revenge."

"You have no proof," Sarah countered, irresolutely.

"I have the goblin, who saw the King's grief at his loss, who saw him use Terry's glamour on more than one occasion, and overheard his brother telling him to stop deceiving you-," she sneered cruelly. "He ignored that advice, content to play your hero while ultimately being the dastardly villain after all. Well, I have that goblin on retainer, so I can summon him if you wish for proof."

Sarah felt the earth tremble under her feet, wishing it would swallow her whole. Jareth was Terry, and Terry was Jareth, forcing the whole thing to border on reverse Cinderella territory. Rage flooded her system. She shoved past the meddlesome fae and back into the ballroom.

As she entered the ballroom, the music swelled to match her mood. She looked around frantically for Jareth. She felt the beat stir in time with her heart, and the rhythm flow with her nerves as she searched the crowd.

_Empty spaces, what are we living for?_

Sarah spotted Jareth in amongst the dancers, his arms around Forsythia, swaying and smiling with her. He was smiling at her like he hadn't smiled at her all night. His eyes lit up, and a full set of teeth on display. He looked happier with Forsythia than he had been with her all night. His disparagements against his future wife, were most likely lies, like everything else he had ever said to her.

_Another hero, another mindless crime._

Or was it just Sarah's rage-fuelled imagination playing tricks on her mind? Why should she care if he was dancing with his family-sanctioned wife? Yet, she had been waiting for him to return for what seemed like hours.

_Inside my heart is breaking._

How could Jareth have betrayed her like that? Why did he pretend to be Terry? She wanted to confront him, but seeing him with his arms around Forsythia, she found herself suddenly paralysed. It seemed like a cruel joke to make her vulnerable in front of all these people. The King probably hired Meffod to reveal his secret identity so she would be humiliated right on cue.

_Whatever happens, I'll leave it all to chance._

Sarah felt Meffod's presence behind her but chose to ignore it. She could choose to disregard Meffod's words completely, but something told her it was the truth. Things Terry had said, had made more sense if they were Jareth's words. Tears leaked down her face before she could stop them. Jareth had obtained her trust as Terry, then crushed her heart, and why? Revenge?

_But inside in the dark, I'm aching to be free._

Well, the Goblin King got his revenge. Not only had she trusted Terry, but Sarah had started falling for him. Jareth's next step was to stop playing at being Terry, only to entrap Sarah as his ally. The game he played was too elaborate for her. Yet, this news was unsurprising. The more she dwelt on Terry's face, the more Sarah saw the similarities of their physiognomy. She felt so foolish for not having seen they were the same person earlier. Their character had yet to align in her mind, but Sarah was not feeling charitable enough to currently think anything generous of Jareth.

_But my smile still stays on._

Sarah watched as Forsythia cupped Jareth's face in her hands, pulling him down for a kiss. Her tears cut down her face with more force now. They were silent. She would not surrender to the sobs that threatened to stab in her chest.

_Fairy tales of yesterday, grow but never die._

Sarah closed her eyes, not wanting to see them kiss, letting the tears fall, becoming less and less aware of her surroundings. When she opened them, it was to see Jareth staring at her with an indifferent look upon his face.

"You won, you bastard," she mouthed at him.

_I have to find the will to carry on._

Jareth looked past her and must have noticed Meffod. His face alighted with fury. Sarah felt a pang of bittersweet triumph.

_On with the show._

Sarah watched Jareth disengage from Forsythia, to come towards her. With one last killer look, she turned on her heel and headed for the door.

_The Show must go on._

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Song credit to Queen, The Show Must Go on. The goblin named Cricket is in honour of my son whose favourite things in the whole world are crickets. 'Cookie' is named for my daughter, for the same reasons. Though that goblin could have taken on any sugar-based treat name haha.
> 
> So a cliffhanger. Sarah now knows Jareth was Terry. How do you think she is going to react? What would Jareth need to do to earn her forgiveness? Can she forgive him?


	15. Chapter Fourteen

Chapter 14

_The Show must go on._

Jareth had solely been doing his duty to his siblings, by dancing with Forsythia. His mind had been with his precious thing on the balcony outside. Jareth knew how to act the way Omre and Nudalun would have wanted him to perform. He could play up for society when he so chose to. He'd much rather be with Sarah. She had let him lapse into companionable silence, earlier in the night when they had been sitting with one another. She hadn't demanded courtly manners from him. It was ironic that he could be more openly flirtatious with Forsythia than he dared to be with his destined wife.

Jareth didn't feel obligated to keep up this pretence with Sarah. That was until she had become intoxicated from imbibing fae wine. He had cursed himself for an idiot. Having deceived her for months, Jareth couldn't bring himself to take advantage of her when she was drunk. He had gone inside to get her some water and nourishment to help reduce the impacts of the alcohol when his brother, Omre, cornered him with Forsythia.

" _Your Majesty, you dance like a dream," Forsythia had crooned, batting her eyes and rubbing her hand over his shoulder._

" _It is natural when your partner is as graceful, and light of foot as you are, darling," Jareth lied with a flashy smile._

_Her laugh was the tinkle of bells - cracked bells that had been ringing for thirteen hours non-stop. Jareth returned her laugh with matching insipidity._

" _I could stare into your eyes for hours," she simpered, leaning in closer, her hand reaching to cup his cheek._

The social performance for these events was always exhausting. Jareth laughed, teased, and flirted in the Court sanctioned custom, with the contemptuous fae, as his duty dictated. Right up until she leaned in for a kiss, he had remained refined. That was a bridge too far, especially when he had been trying to kiss Sarah all night. He tacked away from the insipid blonde.

Then he saw Sarah again. Standing there in the middle of the ballroom like an avenging angel, staring him down, with a cloud of fury surrounding her being. Everything about her was beauty personified, even in the grips of dark despair. A thrill ran through him that she could in all possibility, be jealous of Forsythia. Before he had a chance to school his features into a more appropriate look of concern, he saw HER leering over Sarah's shoulder.

Meffod Pinnsburr.

What was she doing in his Kingdom, and how did she get here? He had warded against the Pinnsburrs. It didn't take him long to connect Sarah's silent tears, to Meffod's presence. No other thought consumed him except for her safety. But as soon as he moved towards her, she veered off. Meffod accompanied her directly behind, throwing a smug look over her shoulder at him.

Jareth ran, driving through his guests, trying to reach his fleeing wife. Witnessing his Champion launch herself out of the room, heavily reminded him of their past ball encounter. He permitted Sarah to depart last time without objection. He wasn't about to let her leave again. Sarah was already through the double doors before he had gained the stairs. The doors swung to as he reached the top of the stairway. He pushed it open and ran into the empty vestibule.

Sarah was gone. Jareth detected the enchantments of the Pinnsburrs; both Meffod and Yarbro and a faint tang of familiar yet indefinable magic. They had succeeded in kidnapping her after all this time. How had they broken his defences? Someone here in the castle must have achieved this for them.

He ordered the nearest goblin to gather every creature in his kingdom to search for Sarah. He was prepared to dart down a corridor when he heard Hoggle rushing towards him, from behind.

"Yer Majesty," he cried. "Lady Sarah, she has been taken."

Jareth ground to a halt and whirled around to face the dwarf.

"You saw her go?"

"Two fae creatures took holds of each arm and then disappeared from the spot," Hoggle explained, proffering a flower. "This fell from her hair."

"Thank you, Hoggle," Jareth took the flower in his silver gloved hand. He ignored Hoggle's look of alarm at the use of his correct name.

The feelings of dread Jareth was exhibiting lifted temporarily. He had magic at his disposal, and she wasn't entirely without a shield. He mustered up a crystal and attempted to scry for her. It kept coming up blank. Whoever let Sarah break free of his protections, must still be blocking her. Jareth let out a roar, effectively frightening Hoggle into backing away and toppling over a vase. Jareth didn't even look up as Hoggle scrambled to attempt to fix the porcelain.

'She is my wife,' he thought viciously. 'You can't hide her from me.'

Jareth transported himself to his chambers. Upon the dresser was a carved wooden box, with abalone shell inlaid into the lid. Within the case rested a pearl; a treasure of viridity and purple. It was the original bridal-pearl; the one that foretold his marriage to Sarah. He kissed the pearl, thanking it for bringing his love into his life.

"Now take me to her," Jareth whispered some old elvish spell, and the pearl hovered above his hand. He transformed into an owl, following the pearl out into the night.

* * *

Pain. That was Sarah's first recollection as she gained consciousness. Her heart, her head and her body were all troubled with harrowing pain, emotional and physical. Her second thought was that she couldn't move her limbs. Her third, but perhaps this should have been her first thought, was that she had been unconscious. Why had she been unconscious?

With a surge of insight, she knew she had got herself kidnapped yet again. Possibly by the same people who captured her the first time. She groaned as the painful memories fell upon her in a tsunami of images. Terry, no Jareth, no they were the same person, leaning in to kiss her, suddenly kissing Forsythia. How could he? How could he trick her? He was fae. She should have been more guarded.

Sarah creaked open her eyes. She was in a cell, strapped up vertically by all four limbs in chains, illuminated only by a candle in a sconce on the opposing wall, and a small window to her left. She resented Jareth for this predicament.

"Fuck you," she shouted with a rough voice into the empty room. Except it wasn't empty.

"That's right," Meffod's voice floated from behind her. "You should be angry. Your King brought you here."

Sarah was too inflamed and aching to correct her about who or who wasn't her king. Her arms throbbed from being chained up, for goodness knows how long. She felt as though there was possibly no blood left in either of them.

"Your King betrayed your trust," a new voice entered the cell.

"He tricked you into thinking you were allies," Meffod added. "Did he almost convince you that you were friends?"

"Yet, he pretended to be a human to mislead you for months," the other voice contributed. Images of Terry swam through her mind. She gritted her teeth at all the things she had confided in him, all the touches, and looks they shared. All the times she disparaged the King to his face. She had even confessed the story of her broken marriage to him. She had shown such vulnerability in front of Terry - crying, panic attacks, letting him pay for her food, telling him she felt safe in his company - telling him how the Labyrinth had helped her grow as a person. Sarah groaned in pain and humiliation.

"Let me introduce you to my brother, Yarbro Pinnsburr," Meffod stepped into her view, followed by another pointy, blonde fae. She knew that name.

"You are the couple that wanted my Toby," Sarah croaked.

"Not wanted, dear," Meffod shook her immaculate, blonde head. "Deserved, owed, needed - we are his true parents."

"And your King stole him from us," Yarbro chipped in. Sarah noticed he looked to his wife every time he spoke, as if for approval. So she was the one running this game, Sarah concluded.

"Toby is not yours," she groaned in pain as little bolts of electricity shot through her brain.

"No, but revenge will be ours," Meffod simpered.

"I have nothing you want," Sarah moaned as more pain raked through her.

"No, dearie," she smirked. "You are nothing to us. You are but bait. Owl bait so to speak."

"Yes," Yarbro laughed. "Because the Goblin King has an owl form."

"She gets it, Yarbro," Meffod sighed. "You don't need to state the obvious. She isn't that dense, despite being a human."

"Call him with this crystal, and then we can get our revenge on him, and for you at the same time," Meffod produced a crystal, lifting it for Sarah to see. Meffod had misjudged her to think that she would want revenge on him, by proxy.

"We promise you can help with some of his torment and humiliation," Meffod proposed. They must have mistaken her look of disgust, for one of disappointment. "When you tell him how much you hate him, it will be ambrosia for us, and agony for him. What better torture than having the human he loves, spurn him a second time?"

'That plan would backfire', Sarah thought. 'He doesn't care enough to be affected.'

"Call him," she proffered the ball again, as one chain magically released her arm. Her arm screamed in agony as the blood rushed back into it. It was like 'pins and needles' on acid. Her other arm now bore her entire weight, and the sudden burden wrenched her shoulder violently. She took the crystal, dropping it straight away, staring into Meffod's hard eyes.

"If you want to be set free, you will call him," she placed the ball atop of a plinth, in arm's reach and swept from the room. Sarah knew how this would work. They would leave her there, and in her solitude and pain, she would become so desperate that she would eventually succumb to calling him, straight into a trap.

Sarah didn't know why she didn't just summon Jareth, and watch him suffer, but despite her anger, she couldn't bring herself to risk his life. She was more stalwart than that, and she wouldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing her in this condition or condescend to ask him to rescue her. She didn't trust him, but she believed these two even less. Better the devil, you know.

Jareth had said that these two were no match for him, and she remembered through the pain and fatigue, that he believed more powerful fae were propping these two up. But weak fae, or not, they both had more magic than she did.

If she even had magic, Jareth could have lied to her about that too. But then she had ended up in his bath under her supposed innate powers. Or had that been another trick of his?

Round and round she went, at least her inner turmoil distracted her from her physical pain of being strung up and stretched by chains. Now that she had one arm free, the other arm supported the weight of her body. It was making her dizzy and nauseous. One particular violent wave of pain was followed by the meagre contents of her stomach spewing forth all over the stone floor, and herself. Sarah had reached up and grabbed the chain, just to give her body a break from being stretched thin.

She went back to puzzling how long she had hung there. She was tired, hungry, thirsty and dirty already. Her last memory was when she had walked out of the ballroom, and two arms grabbed her. Out the window, it still signified night. It could have been days chained here for all she knew.

Or Jareth's betrayal had taxed her body and emotions quicker. Or magic had exhausted her. There wasn't any way to tell unless she asked the Pinnsburrs.

Hours passed, at least Sarah assumed they were hours. Yarbro or Meffod would come back in to tempt her with food or water or ask her to summon Jareth. She never gave in to them. Her anger and fury at Jareth kept her from succumbing to temptation. It was the fuel to her fire, retaining her strength and determination.

Sarah was gritting her teeth against the pain, the pain of revelation, the pain of her bodily torture when she heard a noise at the window.

* * *

Meffod and Yarbro reclined on the couch sipping sherry and watching the night sky. They had succeeded in retrieving the bait, and now they just had to wait for their trap to be complete.

It had been a foolproof plan. Omre and Nudalun hated Jareth just as much as they both did. They approached the angry child-less couple years ago to convince them to capture the mortal from Above. That plan had backfired when they returned Underground sans the human. Nudalun especially had been full of rage. Their combined magic was powerful enough to shield Sarah from Jareth. However, to shield her entirely from them in turn, it was assumed that another player had come into play.

Thanks to Glib the goblin, they discovered that Jareth believed the Labyrinth had hidden her. So when Jareth invited Nudalun and Omre to the ball, they concocted a plan to overthrow that magic and kidnap her a second time. At their cue, Nudalun and Omre cast a masking spell that overwhelmed both Jareth's and the Labyrinth's protection. Forsythia, tasked with distracting the Goblin King, allowed the window of opportunity and they transported the girl out of the Goblin Kingdom. Yarbro roughed her up a bit for fun upon her arrival at one of the lesser forts of Trew. Omre and Nudalun still desired to keep their hands clean, so did not want Navas to be involved. The Pinnsburrs did not wish to taint their manor, so this fort in the Trew foothills had to suffice.

"This place is dismal, Meffy," Yarbro propped his feet up on a wooden footstool. "Can we not just leave her here and return home?"

"You fool," Meffod barked. "The Navas royalty have promised us enough riches to make even Trew royalty sick with envy, but most importantly, revenge."

The Navastians couldn't offer Meffod and Yarbro what they wanted: their own family, but money and revenge were as good, if not better. Who needed to train a human child if they had more finance and more power? Omre and Nudalun had been vague about their motivations, but they paid for the goblin spy, so it was no concern to the Pinnsburrs at the end of the day. It was enough that they hated the Goblin King as much as they did. They didn't need to know the reasons.

Confident that their trap would work, Meffod was already planning her rise in the ranks of Trew nobility. Not many other Trewians could claim such a strong alliance with the Navas royal family. The prestige alone would curry favour, but also suffice as the currency with which they climbed the social ladder. And all they had to do was wait until the girl called on the Goblin King.

"It is only 'revenge' if he cares enough to come," Yarbro puffed on his pipe.

There was no doubt in Meffod's mind that The Goblin King preferred the girl and would come to her rescue. Meffod was quick to share her distaste of favouring a mortal, with Yarbro, at any opportunity. It amplified in her mind that the Goblin King was a lesser creature.

"He will come, Yarbro," Meffod said with confidence. "I judge him for his peculiar taste in females, but as repugnant as she is, he is fond of her."

The gathered intel of his attachment to the mortal was substantial. Not only did they have Glib the goblin, but numerous extra paid underlings who could testify to particular exploits that built a solid case against them. There was enough ammunition against the Goblin Kingdom, allowing the Pinnsburrs to get away with their current vigilante actions.

The Pinnsburrs knew the Prince was having an affair with a lower-class male. They knew the Goblin King was going against the wishes of the High King, the High Council, King Effistod of Navas, and his two eldest children, to woo a meagre mortal, when they already viewed their niece, Forsythia as his wife. It was enough to condemn them, as paltry as the issues seemed to the common folk. In the eyes of the Court, same-sex relations and dalliances with mortals were worse crimes than kidnapping and torture.

Meffod sipped her sherry with glee. She could barely contain her excitement. Yarbro was less demonstrative, having grumbled all night about yearning for his bed and slippers.

"A little bit of discomfort in this drafty fort will be worth it when we are rolling around in riches," she hushed him. "Before you know it we will be lapping up the mortification of the Goblin King."

"I think it is my turn to go and offer her with a glass of water," Yarbro shuffled off reluctantly.

The Pinnsburrs kept tempting the girl with revenge, hunger, pain and thirst to force her into summoning the Goblin King. They knew she would eventually do it. They waited fifteen years, what was a few more hours? They underestimated her determination, though. The hours ticked by and there was no sign of her giving in to summon her rescuer. However, hope remained strong, even as the night got colder, especially as the night got colder.

"If the Goblin King agrees to marry Forsythia, then we would let the girl go free," Meffod explained yet again to her husband when he returned unsuccessful from the mortal's cell. "She is nothing to us. If he refuses, we will simply torture her in front of him. One way or the other we will deliver a repentant Goblin King to Omre and Nudalun, and we get the joy of being his tormentors for a few days."

Meffod could barely contain herself. Yarbro lamented his indoor plumbing and feather pillows.

Once the girl was released, the Pinnsburrs would then delight in torturing the King, with whatever elicited strong reactions. Until they broke him, they would incorporate illusions of his mortal in dangerous situations, with other men, and eventually, they would show him her dead body. Jareth was the fae that had deprived them of an effortless way to gain social standing - possessing a child to bribe or trade within marriage. He deserved his punishment.

* * *

Jareth hadn't taken to the skies for quite some time. It was liberating, but he had one sole focus. Sarah. Her look of absolute fury taunted him. What had Meffod told her to make her look at him like that? In all their encounters, she had never looked upon him with _such_ extreme loathing. Hatred, yes, but never this deep and immovable. The anger was so palpable he could almost see it flying around her, like bats out of hell.

Jareth coasted on an updraft, keeping his owl eyes on the pearl still soaring through the bitter night air. Did she know? Had Meffod discovered his duality and informed Sarah? Her dark, furious look would make sense, more than if she was jealous over him dancing with Forsythia. Jareth had to make this right somehow. In the past few days, Sarah had started thawing towards him. He couldn't lose her. Not now that he had got a taste of the real Sarah, who saw him without his glamour.

When he learnt of his destined marriage to Sarah, he had been thrilled at not having to romance a tiresome fae. He rejoiced at having someone who he would have immense power over - a mortal under his command. Mortals remained susceptible to enthrallment with fae-kind. Sarah claiming that Jareth 'had no power' over her, had made the opposite true. It had also made him enraged. Following his time in the company of Sarah, he had changed his tune, discovering what he authentically coveted: an equal match. Despite his words to the contrary all those years ago, she _was_ a match for him. Sarah was his match in every way. And he would be damned if he lost her to the Pinnsburrs.

He didn't know what drew him so deeply to her. Fae were capricious creatures who would tire of their mortal playthings, and while captivated by her, his interest only increased daily. He desired her, possibly more than any other creature he had lain with during centuries past, but attraction only took someone so far. He craved her company more than anything.

Jareth startled as he lost the current, and started toppling towards the ground. Righting himself with ease, he beat his wings faster to reconvene with the pearl. He had just made a daunting discovery: he needed friendship with Sarah. He wanted more from her, of course, but his priority was her friendship, first and foremost. He hadn't realised at the time, but for some unfathomable reason, Hoggle had nettled him during Sarah's run. Now he discerned that he had been jealous of him, and his easy companionship.

Jareth would renounce all else just to have Sarah in his life. Despite being a passionate creature who could not disregard his carnal-appetite completely, he valued Sarah over his amorous coital exploits. Was he, Jareth the Goblin King, willing to remain celibate for the rest of his existence just to keep Sarah in his life? Stranger things have happened. The idea was admirable while they were in their current crisis mode, but he wasn't sure it was a practice he could sustain for all his entire future.

However, love was a force that was deep and dangerous and unexplored. It had the power to sway immovable objects. It had the strength to crush hearts, hopes and dreams. Mortals lived and died by love. Jareth was learning he was not immune. It had changed him. An implacable, ruthless and cruel being was willing to risk his everything for the woman he had grown to adore, had always cherished, had loved before he had even met her.

Just when he was assuming they would never arrive at their destination, the pearl took a nose-dive. Jareth saw the faint gleam of a foothill fort below them. He shadowed the pearl in its descent, landing on a windowsill, seeing Sarah illuminated by a single candle in the dark cell. In the wake of the light, he saw her hanging from the ceiling and ground by chains. Her head was down, and he could see that she was battered and bruised, vomit leaking down her chin, and her dress was soiled, an unmistakable puddle on the floor under her torn skirts. His insides clenched and his fury peaked.

He melted through the glass as if it were water. Sarah hesitantly raised her head to look upon him. She may be beaten and strung up like an offering to the gods, but by bog, her eyes held that defiant green fire he had come to love.

* * *

The noise at the window was an owl; a barn owl. Specifically Jareth, the barn owl. Why was he there? Sarah hadn't summoned him. He transformed in front of her, perched on the window sill in his humanoid form.

"Sarah," he said in undertones.

"Why are you here?" Sarah coughed, her throat constricting from dehydration.

"To rescue you, of course," Jareth peered around the cell, before running his eyes over her form. His face etched with tight lines, his lips thin downward curves.

"This is a trap," Sarah warned him, peeling her tongue off the roof of her mouth.

"I am aware," he shrugged. "I can feel the magic, but it is neither here nor there."

"Why did you do it?"

"What?" Jareth probed. "Rescue you?"

"No," she choked out. "Did you hate me so much?"

"Hate you, Sarah?" he leaned forward, knitting his brows. "I never -"

"You need to go," Sarah shifted her weight on the chains. "They will be back soon."

"I am not leaving," he said sternly, as he produced a crystal, holding it up for her to see. "This will send you home."

"You got your revenge," she went on, her voice breaking. "This should be the icing on the cake for you."

Jareth closed his eyes, opening them again to display a whorl of emotion dancing in their depths. "You know about Terry."

"I know he isn't real," Sarah spat.

"Sarah-," he started.

"No," Sarah looked away, shifting yet again in pain. "Just go."

Jareth snarled. "I will not have you making a martyr of yourself, Sarah Williams."

"I don't need your help," Sarah muttered feebly.

"If I jump in there it will trigger a signal," Jareth scanned the room again. "Your captors - your abusers will come instantly."

"So don't jump in," she implored, gesturing towards the crystal with her free hand. "It's a trap. I'm just your bait for some, quite frankly, baffling reason. It's you they want, not me."

"Why didn't you summon me, Sarah?" he stared at the crystal on the plinth with an expression that exhibited a mixture of solemnity, curiosity and inscrutability. Aside from her misgivings that he may not have even come, she couldn't let herself be accountable for inviting him to his possible death.

"It's a trap," Sarah reiterated. "Now fuck off."

Sarah was outraged with his sham. Despite his duplicity, Jareth had, on occasion, shown her genuine kindness. As 'Terry', he had been exceptionally kind. That, of course, had been a ruse, but as Jareth, he had been almost warm, almost friendly with her. Sarah had observed something of Terry in his manner. She wouldn't let him suffer at the hands of these two, just because of her vexation.

"Sarah," I know you're angry with me," he supplicated. "And I deserve your anger, but why are you putting me before yourself right now?"

"It is not ethical to let you risk your life, just to save mine," she explained, her voice almost giving up the ghost. "It's not fair."

"You do not get to decide how I risk my life, Precious," Jareth intoned. "Though I am flattered."

Sarah groaned in pain.

"Enough, we can argue some more later," he growled. "I will release you from the chains from here."

He sent a crystal soaring through the air towards Sarah. The glass sphere bounced off the chains, landing with a heavy thunk on the stone ground. It spun in circles across the floor, before dissolving into mist. Sarah was still in chains. Jareth cursed.

"I don't need rescuing," she bit out.

"My pride got you into this situation," Jareth avowed. "Do not let your pride keep you here."

Sarah felt another wave of pain wash over her, making her drift momentarily out of consciousness.

"Sarah," Jareth called.

"Please fuck off," she slurred, regaining sentience.

"I can't release you from here," he cursed. "I am going to have to come to you. Once you are free of the chains, take my crystal, think of where you want to go, and leave. No matter what happens to me."

"It's a trap," she bored her eyes into his. "They won't just let you breeze on back home."

"I know."

"Then why are you planning on replacing my life with yours?" she snapped. "You've already proven my life is of little consequence to you."

"For once in your life, shut up and listen to me," he stormed. "Do not defy me. Follow my instructions. You will accept my aid, and after that, you can spend the rest of your life hating me. But right now, the monstrous crimes I have committed against you, do not matter. Only your life matters, Sarah. Do you hear me?"

Sarah just swallowed, her parched mouth making it come out as a gasp.

"Right," he shifted on the sill, hands gripping the edge, ready to pounce. And pounce he did. Jareth lunged across the cell, landing silently in front of Sarah. "They will now know I am here."

He waved his hands to dissolve the chains, first her legs, then her arms. Jareth wrapped his arms around her waist to ease her onto solid ground, just as the door burst open. Sarah chose that moment to vomit all over his boots. Jareth paid it no mind.

Meffod and Yarbro stood there cackling. Their success painted on both faces.

"She didn't even summon you, Goblin King, but you found her anyway," Meffod said with derisiveness. "How sweet."

Jareth ignored them, placing a crystal in Sarah's hands, still supporting her. "Think of where you want to go, Sarah," he whispered into her ear. "Do it now."

"You don't think you can escape that easily do you?" Meffod scorned, stepping forward.

"Sarah, now."

"What about you?" Sarah gulped down her indecision, the acrid taste of bile strong in her mouth.

"You foolish child," Meffod mocked, taking another step. "The magic here is too powerful for him to escape."

"Sarah, I am using all my strength to keep the portal open for you," he muttered through clenched teeth. "This is the key, now use it."

"What about you?" Sarah asked again. Meffod and Yarbro were kept away by some invisible force. Sarah assumed this was Jareth's doing as well.

"Don't worry about me," he gasped, his face suddenly chalky and sallow, both pupils reduced to mere pinpricks. Sarah had never seen him sweat, but he now had torrents flowing over his brow and down his neck. The magic that he fought and spent was costing him. "Use it now, Sarah. Live your life well."

Sarah couldn't just leave him, despite her resentment of him, but she could see Jareth was willing to sacrifice himself for her, and she shouldn't let him do that in vain. She clasped the ball in her palm, looking into his haggard and strained face.

"You better live so I can finish killing you myself," she threatened.

"Precious -" was all he could manage, his eyes never shifting from her face. Sarah could feel him trembling against her. With a sigh, she thought about the Labyrinth throne room, closing her eyes, squeezing the ball tight. She felt Jareth release her, the earth canting, and when she opened her eyes, she was alone in the darkened throne room. Sarah's limbs, unsteady from her rough handling, buckled, crumpling her body upon the chilly, granite floor.

* * *

She heard booted click-clacks pounding across the floor. Jareth must have been able to escape. She rolled her head to the side to see dark grey boots in front of her, stopping short of a fresh pool of vomit.

"Where is he?" a similar cadence to Jareth, but it was not the Goblin King. The voice belonged to Sevlydi. Sarah groaned, rolling onto her back to look up at the face of her villain's brother.

"The Pinnsburrs kidnapped me," she rubbed her eyes, careful of the cuts and bruises that littered her body. "He freed me, but they have him now."

"Where?" Sevlydi asked with urgency. "Where did they take you?"

"I don't know," Sarah sobbed, feeling the blame. Sarah should never have left Jareth. "It was a cell. That's all I know."

Sevlydi swore under his breath, marching back and forth. He summoned a crystal, bidding for Jareth, but it remained transparent. Sarah groaned in agony, bringing his attention back to her.

"Are you hurt?"

"I'm just peachy," Sarah muttered dryly.

"I will summon a healer," Sevlydi said blandly. As he crafted another crystal, he explained that everyone had left after the ball, except Sarah's friends, the Spriggets, and the trio. To them, he had extended his hospitality to spend the night in the castle.

"Sarah," came the voice of Hoggle. He galloped into the throne room, as fast as his stubby legs would allow. He stalled as he took in her battered form. "Thank the bog, you're safe, but where is the rat?"

"Hoggle," Sarah cried, sitting up as much as her aching body could manoeuvre. He couldn't be the healer, Sevlydi just summoned, could he? "He stayed behind to get me to safety. It was a trap to capture him."

Guilt made her tone apprehensive and contrite. Sevlydi shifted in her eye line, and she knew he would impute her too.

"He did the right thing," Sevlydi left her speechless. "If they wanted Jareth, you would have become collateral damage. He can take care of himself, but they would have tortured you or killed you, just to subject him to torment."

"I'd have thought he would have rejoiced, not be wretched," Sarah muttered cynically. "Doesn't sound much like torture for him."

Sevlydi scoffed. "You live in denial."

"I may not likes the rat, Sarah," Hoggle asserted. "But I saw him after they stoles you. He was scared. _And_ he called Hoggle, Hoggle."

"How did he find you?" Sevlydi changed the subject.

Sarah shrugged. "The Pinnsburrs seemed surprised by that as well."

"He used a pearl," Hoggle said abruptly. "I saws him fly out his window following a glowing pearl."

"Jareth would have asked the pearl to bring him to you," Sevlydi paced like a caged lion, glaring at the ground like it had offended him, personally. "There would be a spell, of course."

He brought his eyes up from the ground, to survey her face.

"How would a pearl -"

"Now isn't the time to argue with whether you believe me or not," he remonstrated. "If Jareth found you, using the pearl, then you can find him the same way."

"I don't -"

"Look in the crystal he gave you," Sevlydi strode closer to her. She lifted the glass ball that was still clasped in her hand, peering inside to corroborate the truth. Front and centre lay the purple and green pearl, shimmering in all its magnificence.

Sevlydi took the orb from Sarah's outstretched hand, dropping it against the stone floor. Sarah flinched as it splintered but accepted the pearl as he relinquished it to her.

"So you can use this to find him?" Sarah inspected the pearl. Compared to her bracelet, this one shone with indescribable radiance. She shoved the feelings at her comprehension that she was holding the bridal-pearl in her very hands.

"No, only you can," Sevlydi clarified.

Sarah wanted to eat, drink and have a bath followed by a lie-down, not travel miles in the pursuit of a pearl.

"She ain't going anywhere until she has seen the healer," Hoggle interjected.

"The healer is here now," said a red-bearded man, entering the room. "Lady Sarah, I am Gilo, your healer today."

Sarah had never seen a bearded-fae, but his pointy ears indicated he wasn't human. Gilo must have seen her look of curiosity.

"I am an elf, Miss," he said, kneeling next to her. Sarah nodded in acknowledgement, while Gilo started working on her ailments. "What happened to you?"

"When I woke up after my kidnapping, I was chained up and covered in bruises," Sarah enlightened him. "I don't know how I received cuts and bruises. No recollection at all."

After Gilo had run some unobtrusive tests, he had determined most of her pain, her hunger, fatigue, nausea and thirst were just enchantments. He gave her some tonics for the dehydration and starvation, before declaring that while unconscious, no-one had raped her. Sarah felt abundantly better, despite her arm still hurting, and the vomit and urine splattered on her dress.

Gilo left her alone in the presence of Hoggle and Sevlydi. Hoggle produced a clean dress and, with a wave of his hand, Sevlydi exchanged her sullied articles for the fresh one.

"Now let us get to work," Sevlydi closed a book he had been reading. "I know the spell, and you just need to ask the pearl to show you to Jareth."

"And then we just walk thousands of miles for weeks until we hunt him down," Sarah scorned. "Simple."

Sevlydi rolled his eyes before turning slightly to the side, slowly revealing a pair of large feathered wings trailing down his back. "I glamour my wings so people can't see them, but it is my magical quirk. Like your Jareth has his owl form, I got these instead."

Sarah closed her mouth with a snap. He resembled characters from the movie Dogma, that she had seen trailers for before she left the Aboveground, except blonde, and in no way an angel.

"So you send the pearl on its merry way, while I carry you," he instructed.

"Does everyone have their magical quirks?" Sarah asked, clutching her aching arm.

"Most have something that sets them apart," Sevlydi stepped closer to her, his wings twitching in anticipation for their flight. "Jareth has his owl form and his dream keeping. Dream keeping is not so much a quirk as it is a rare talent."

Hoggle coughed from the window, where he had been standing guard. "The dawn is coming."

"Ask the pearl to lead you to Jareth," Sevlydi prompted.

"Please lead me to Jareth," Sarah stuttered over saying his name, feeling like she had no right to say it. Sevlydi said the spell words as the pearl hovered above her hand and then waited for them at the window.

Sevlydi wrapped his arms around Sarah when they both stood perched on the window sill.

"Are you ready?" he asked. Sarah complied, her eyes shut as he leapt into the pre-dawn skies.

Sarah let out a silent scream as she felt them both plummet to the ground before Sevlydi caught an updraft and had them soaring through the currents directly behind the pearl. The first thing she noticed was how cold it was with the wind whipping her hair, and the gusts from his wings hitting her in the face. Sarah's eyes watered too ferociously to contemplate opening them for too long but when she did the view was breath-taking. It genuinely took her breath away and gave her an overwhelming sense of vertigo.

For the rest of the journey, Sarah squeezed her eyes shut. Eventually, as they slowed into a descent, Sarah braved opening her eyes. Sarah saw, in the murky dawn-light, their supposed final destination, the fort where Jareth was apprehended.

Except it was a burnt ruin. Sevlydi landed gracefully on the remaining stone foundation, letting her go directly. Sarah only saw charred wood, crumbled stone and not a soul in sight. Sarah stepped forward, noting that even the trees were black and blistering in the surrounding foothills. Ash fell like snow upon the site, dissolving into the plumes of smoke rising to meet the skies. Sevlydi immediately commenced calling his brother's name.

Sarah asked the pearl to locate Jareth anew in hushed tones. The jewel fluttered ephemerally, drifting forwards to a considerable volume of scorched, broken timber heaped upon the cracked, scarred ground. Sarah felt her stomach drop out. Sarah crept forward, with her heart in her throat.

When her parents died, Sarah identified their bodies. Consequently, she was no stranger to corpses. Despite that, or because of that, it was unequivocally nerve-wracking. The pearl stopped right at the centre of the pile, so Sarah started pulling out the wood as carefully as she could manage. If he was under here and injured, then she didn't want to make it more critical. While she fancied kicking him where it hurts, she didn't want him to be in mortal peril. Could a fae die? She didn't want to find out.

Aside from needing answers, his treachery didn't warrant Jareth's death. Sarah may be cruel by his reckoning, but she was not the vindictive type. Slowly the pile got smaller, as Sevlydi still searched and called for him on the periphery. She caught sight of something buried within the heap. Holding her breath, she worked a bit faster, still conscious of ensuring there was no cascading wood to make things worse.

She could see the ground now. She had dug to the bottom of the pile of wood.

There wasn't a body.

He wasn't there.

The pearl still hovered over the site, not relinquishing this area as Jareth's final location.

But instead of Jareth, instead of a body, lay a single piece of jewellery.

Lying in amongst the soot and ash, and owl feathers, was Jareth's sickle-shaped medallion.

* * *

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Firstly, credit to the fantastic AngelGlass for the Image that accompanies this story. The image contains Jareth and Sarah but also Terry!! Big shout out to AngelGlass for her amazing work. So grateful and blown away by her kindness and skill. THANK YOU. 
> 
> Secondly, another cliffhanger - eek. Chapter 15 is complete and just needs editing (have I mentioned how much I loathe editing?). 
> 
> Thirdly, thank you, people, who have commented and followed. And if you're from LFFL, extra thank you to you. You guys rock my socks. 


	16. Chapter Fifteen

CHAPTER 15

_Lying in amongst the soot and ash, and owl feathers, was Jareth's sickle-shaped medallion._

Sarah reached down, picking it up out of the ashes. The cord had burnt off, leaving tattered edges around the top of the crest, but the rest of the necklace was unmarred. It was heavy in her palm and surprisingly warm. Though she guessed, based on plumes of smoke still rising from the debris, that it could be the resultant effect of the fire. She looked up from the dusty object in her hand to see Sevlydi still kicking aside wood and bricks. Like he sensed her stare, he turned to her, eyes travelling down from her face to her outstretched hand. As if in slow motion, his face crumpled in horror and disbelief.

She moved towards him as if in a daze. It was only right that Sevlydi got the medallion. He was the heir, and with Jareth's possible death, he was now the Goblin King. They both met in the middle, Sarah proffering the medallion to the new King.

He shook his head.

"The pearl brought me to it," she spoke, her throat tight. Sevlydi pushed past her as if in a trance. He knelt by the pile of feathers, running his fingers through the soft down. "Is he - "

"I don't know," he responded, hesitation lacing his tone and his demeanour. "He would never leave this behind if he were alive."

Sevlydi had pointed to the amulet still resting in her palm. He conjured a crystal and asked it to reveal Jareth. It remained translucent. He looked up to the skies, before closing his eyes forcefully.

"Use your pearl again," he ordered. Sarah obliged. It hovered in front of her and landed on the medallion in her opposing hand.

Sevlydi let out a sound like a wounded animal. He rose off his knees and started prowling the vicinity.

"Could you try scrying for the two kidnappers?" Sarah asked softly. "He may be with them, and just being blocked by magic like I was."

With yet another crystal, he said Meffod and Yarbro's names. Nothing. The glass remained permeable and vacant.

"Maybe your crystal isn't working?" Sarah remained hopeful. "Try someone else?"

He said Hoggle's name, and Sarah could see the dwarf shaking his head and muttering to himself back in the castle.

"Maybe it is the location," she prompted. "Say my name."

"Lady Sarah," he said, his eyes resting on her with doubt. She could see herself clearly, in his orb. She sighed. "What about your brother and sister?"

"They have anti scrying magic on them," he threw the crystal away with a huff. "Perks of being higher royalty than us."

Sarah didn't like the way he implied 'her' with his 'us.'

"Here, this is yours now," Sarah presented the crescent medallion again.

"No, it isn't," he growled. "I do not want it, and it is not mine."

"But you're the heir apparent," Sarah didn't want the heavy item weighing her down anymore. It was a reminder that Jareth's disappearance had been her fault. Or partly her fault. If she had confronted him, rather than running away, this never would have happened. Jareth had advised Sarah that her safety was a high priority, but if he had never fooled her into accepting he was Terry, then she never would have absconded.

A small voice in the back of her head told her if he never pretended he was Terry, she probably would never have reconnected with him in the first place, remaining enemies until her dying day. She didn't know how that made her feel. She locked those thoughts away, for unpacking at a later time, a time when Jareth's possible death wasn't at the forefront of everything.

"No, I am not the heir," he groaned. "We shall talk about this, but not here, not now. I will port you back while I keep looking for him."

"No, I will help," she stepped away from his proffered glass orb. "Please take this, though."

"I can't," Sevlydi snapped. "I can not touch it."

Sarah found that odd but didn't question him further. He was facing the possible loss of his brother, so didn't want to press his already fragile state. She clutched the medallion, and continued to search the area, though both knew it was hopeless.

"We will find a body if he is dead," she sought reassurances for them both.

"Not when a fae dies," he shook his head, dishevelled blonde hair flying everywhere. "Their spirit passes over, while their body returns to nature."

They proceeded in tortured silence. Sevlydi held back his sorrow while Sarah clutched at her fragmented feelings. It was like gathering bubbles upon the wind with only a knife to try and capture them. She had anger, confusion, grief, worry, and fear all warring for domination. The singular fragility of each feeling meant she held them all at once, or suddenly she would feel nothing at all, consumed by numbness.

Sarah didn't have enough self-awareness at present to determine which emotion was the 'right' one she was supposed to be feeling. It didn't seem correct to mourn for someone who had betrayed her in such a way, yet she couldn't help feeling a sense of loss. She resented him strongly for what he had done, but she hadn't wished him dead. And her desire to see him alive was more robust than just closure, her demand for a battle with him, and to satisfy her curiosity. However, she couldn't explain or justify that desire. Sarah doubted he would be traipsing through the burnt-out remains of the fort, looking for her, if the shoe was on the other foot. Would he?

Sarah saw his face as clear as day in her mind's eye, as he took in her battered state, she saw his determination as he strove to take her place, she saw the pain in his whole being when he kept the portal open for her. His last request had been for her to live her life well. Maybe in his twisted way, he did care about her.

Sevlydi kept shooting her looks. Sarah realised she had never informed him that she knew about Terry. He didn't know the circumstance behind her kidnapping. Would he blame her if he knew? She let out a pained squeak.

"Are you well?" Sevlydi turned to her, momentarily abandoning his search.

"I am such an idiot," she muttered, looking up at him. "In all this, I never even considered the other player."

"I am afraid I don't kn-"

"Stephen," she halted. Her ire made her less prudent than necessary. Who had time to be circumspect when molten glass pierced your insides? "You are Stephen."

Sevlydi's mouth flopped open before he quickly collected himself.

"You knew," he stated simply.

"I did," Sarah pushed her matted, tangled hair behind her shoulders. "Very recently too."

His eyes went wide. "The Pinnsburrs?"

Sarah nodded. "They have a goblin in their employ, potentially the same one that spied on you."

"Do you have a name?"

"No," Sarah rubbed her brow. "They never mentioned a name, just told me that it was part of their torture that a goblin betrayed his King. They wanted me to tell him."

"Why did they want you to tell him?"

"They believed that anything I said and said with glee, would torture him more than if they said it," she pulled her lips into thin lines, exhaling from her nose violently. "For some reason, they assume I have more sway with him than I do. They're two imbeciles."

Sevlydi kicked a piece of smouldering wood with his booted toes. "You are in such denial, little girl."

"Not this again," Sarah ground out. "This pearl does not dictate to me who I am going to marry."

"That pearl brought you to him," he reasoned. "That pearl led him to you."

"So it is a magical tracking device," Sarah scoffed. "Oh, I am convinced. Please, let's find the nearest altar and sign the marriage contract right now."

"Is it indeed the time for sarcasm?" Sevlydi bit, his features displayed every ounce of grief he must have been feeling. "If you had asked that pearl to show you anyone else, it would not have worked. It only works between the two of you."

Sarah had the decency to look ashamed. She couldn't marry a ghost anyway. "Sorry," she muttered. "Sarcasm, or not, how could I marry someone who deceived me like that?"

Sevlydi just grunted. They started moving again, shifting wood and scanning the treeline for any clue.

"If it makes any difference to you," he said as they arrived at the boundary of the fort. "And it probably won't, but I did try very hard to persuade him to stop stringing you along."

"Oh no," Sarah flushed. "There was no stringing to be had. I am not and was not interested, but the matter still stands, that he pretended to be my friend under false pretences."

"He had his reasons, Sarah," Sevlydi turned around to face her. "Some of them are more justified than the others, but I can assure you that none of the reasons was to hurt you."

"You're telling me the Goblin King didn't wish to seek revenge against me?" Sarah quirked a brow in disbelief.

"He did not," Sevlydi countered. "You have little reason to esteem me either, but he trusted you with my biggest secret. And I know my brother. I know that he has a strange way of showing that he cares, but I know when he does. And sharing that piece of knowledge with you, was his way of bringing you into the fold."

"Yeah, because a stupid pearl told him to."

"No, that stupid pearl told him who he was to marry," he countered. "It didn't tell him who to care for, and trust me, I am surprised as you are that my brother cares about anyone but himself."

"He cares about you," Sarah rejoined.

"It's not the same," he moved past her, back the way they came.

"I should have seen the duplicity as soon as you gave me the peaches," Sarah said, without turning to face him. Instead, she looked over the mist-covered forest that rolled over the foothills below and above where they stood. Both became lost in their silent reflections.

"Allegedly, the earth-father and the sky-mother were lovers entwined so close that their children separated them," Sevlydi said from behind her after their perusal of the horizon was coming to a natural end. "The mist is said to be the tears of the earth-mother as she mourns for her lover- the sky father."

"That is truly quite poignant," Sarah commented, watching the dawn light smote the mist.

"If it turns out that Jareth is dead, will you mourn him?" Sevlydi asked. Sarah's jaw clenched, her eyes hardened, but her heart raced.

"I am unsure," Sarah chose honesty for her answer. "My feelings are more twisted than his Labyrinth."

The tranquillity that followed made Sarah uncertain as to whether Sevlydi was still there.

Eventually, he spoke, his voice thick. "We should return to the castle."

* * *

The wailing was indefinable. It was high-pitched, yet, simultaneously thunderous and grave. Sevlydi informed Sarah that it was a mourning-wail. The Goblins had lost their King. Sarah questioned if it was proof-positive that he wouldn't return if the goblins had sensed Jareth's disappearance.

Sevlydi couldn't answer. His moods oscillated from despair to anger to hope, and back again. The Prince sat draped in a chair next to the throne, with his hands over his face. There was an open bottle of wine by his feet. Hoggle shuffled around muttering with Sir Didymus chipping in with words of hope. Sarah was dubious that there was any hope, especially if the goblins mourned.

"It could be a summons to return him home, rather than a lament," Liam Sprigget supplied. They were still staying in the castle. Most of the children were with Helena in their rooms. "My grandfather mentioned something about this when he used to work at the castle. It isn't the first time King Jareth has gone missing. He said that the King was incredibly angry one day, with a questor that had abused a baby so badly. He flew off in a rage, got caught in a storm and didn't return for a few days."

Shortly after this minute piece of hope, everyone made their way to their separate suites. Sarah took a hot bath, to wash away all the traces of her kidnapping. As she lay in the soothing water, her tears began to fall. For all the jumble of feelings, hearing the goblin's lament was the stirring poignancy adept enough to give her release. She remembered that Jareth shared her last bath, imprinting upon her how quickly everything had changed.

The water was almost cold before she climbed out, drained of all her tears. Gilo had left her a sleeping draught, so she took that before she curled up in her bed.

* * *

Sarah awoke, instantly aware that it was late afternoon. She crawled out of bed, desperately needing to urinate. Since the morning, the lament, while decreased in volume, could still be heard echoing around the City. Jareth hadn't turned up while she had been asleep, then. Sadness and guilt filled her up to capacity anew. She thought that perhaps it was just the guilt, but the longer she sat with the feelings, the more she felt genuine sorrow at his loss. She had been sitting on the lavatory for a solid ten minutes before Sarah was conscious that she was again crying. Everything was a mess, causing her to flit from one emotion to the next.

"Bastarding bastard," she muttered through her tears.

Sarah turned the tap on full blast, and let the water run as she stared into the swirling abyss of the plughole, waiting as her tears joined the whirlpool. She didn't want Jareth to be dead. Now that the numbness and shock of last night had worn off to leave only raw pain behind, she could centre a bit better on her separate feelings, rather than the mire of them all.

Sarah couldn't explain why Jareth's possible death upset her. She'd lost Terry twice now. Some of her grief (and most of her anger), was connected to that loss. However, a part of her was wretched that she had lost Jareth too. He had been such a large part of her childhood and shaping her adolescence. It didn't feel real that he was dead. Was it healthy to mourn for the loss of her nemesis? Perhaps a small part had come to care for Jareth, and that part felt the brunt of his lies all the more. Of course, there was no chance now for closure or forgiveness.

As Sarah left the bathroom, her eyes flicked to the pearl and the medallion that sat beside the bed. She pocketed both in her skirt. She wanted them near to her, though she couldn't understand why, when she denied either having any power over her will.

Not a soul occupied the dining room, so Sarah progressed to the kitchen. She wasn't hungry, but she needed to keep her strength up. Sevlydi was in there, slumped over the wooden table. Sarah didn't know if he was conscious so crept in, whispering to a nearby goblin for some bread and cheese.

"Your Majesty, you are awake," slurred Sevlydi. Sarah twirled around expecting Jareth to be the one he was speaking to, and her heart rate reflected this supposition. The room remained devoid of the Goblin King.

"You are dreaming," Sarah suggested, as she tried to bring her heart rate back down.

"No, I assure you, I am not," he looked directly at her, unwavering in his bloodshot stare. "You are The Goblin Queen."

Sarah just laughed.

"No, I am telling the truth," he said, taking a swig of his wine. "In place of Jareth, you have been selected as the new Queen."

"I have not," Sarah slammed her hands onto her hips. "You're drunk."

"You picked up his pendant," he reminded her, his red, swollen eyes shimmering as they stared her down. "Only the eligible heir can find and touch the medallion."

"Oh, but you can't expect to wield supreme executive power just because some watery tart threw a sword at you," Sarah quoted derisively. Sevlydi frowned as he took another sip of wine. "To clarify, I can't rule the Kingdom simply because I touched a pendant. It's _not '_ The Sword in the Stone or 'Monty Python and the Holy Grail.'"

"No, but that is the way it is," Sevlydi released his frown with a sigh.

"Well, fuck that," Sarah yelled. "I don't want it."

"That's too bad," Sevlydi straightened in his seat. "It's yours. Your Kingdom is as great."

Sarah laughed contemptuously. There was no way she was Queen, just because she picked up his locket. All her nerves seemed to hone into its weight in her pocket.

"Does this mean, he is truly dead?" Sarah locked eyes with him in shared disbelief.

"No," he tapped his lips. A gesture so similar to Jareth's that her insides cringed. "His pendant is enchanted to ensure the safety of his throne in the event of his death. At any time, the charm can release the magic. He doesn't need to be dead to have selected an heir. The pendant just has to 'think' Jareth is dead. No-one can touch the pendant unless they are the rightful monarch."

Sarah recalled briefly touching his pendant when they danced, or rather when Jareth danced with her, at the Twilight Festival. She had felt the hum of magic run through her fingers then. Sarah ached to point this out but thought better of it. Corroborating Sevlydi's fantasy any further, was not high on her priority list.

At the memory of their dance, she recollected Jareth's apology towards her. Her brows drew into a frown. Fae, she had learnt from reading the books in her library, do not express regret. Yet, Jareth had. Was it another lie? 'Terry' had comforted her after that dance. Had it been regret then, driving his comforting actions? He had called himself a fool, via his proxy. She had sought solace in Terry's arms, and he had given it. Had Jareth meant his actions more as Terry than as Jareth. It ached to think of these things when all she ended up with was more questions than answers.

"Why me?" she asked after gathering enough wit.

"You were his choice of Queen, why wouldn't you be his choice of the heir?"

"Why are you just telling me this now?"

"You were in no state to learn of this last night or this morning," he swirled his wine around his nearly empty cup. "I felt like you should sleep before you learn about your new role."

"That's kind of you,"

"We're not all cruel beasts, Sarah,"

"My role, that I haven't accepted, however," she contradicted his earlier statement. "Is only temporary. I don't think Jareth is dead."

"How so?"

"I don't put much stock in your pearl theory," she waved her hand in dismissal. "I am not someone waiting around for my Prince Charming to sweep me off my feet with the romantic notion of destiny. However, that pearl is warm to touch. It feels reassuring, and call me crazy, but if he is dead, I think it would be cold."

Sevlydi looked up with hope in his eyes.

"I don't mean to get your hopes up," she admitted, chewing her lip. "The King's medallion is still warm to the touch, too. At first, I thought it was from the fire, but not after all this time."

"We can only hope that something detained him," he swallowed, and closed his eyes, relief lightening up his features. "In the interim, you are the Queen Regent."

"Why can't you do it?"

"Jareth would have known I didn't want the job, never have," Sevlydi gulped down the last of his wine. "He was aware of the affinity his people have for you. He often spoke of it."

Sarah rolled his eyes. "You mean, how resentful he was that I befriended his subjects?"

"Maybe at first," he licked his wine-stained lips. "He may not show it, but he cares for those ugly creatures. He would want their government to be in the very best of hands."

"I am sure you -"

"No," he growled. "Your empathy and determination drew his creatures to you. It will be you they want."

Sarah flopped down in her chair with a huff. "I don't know how to rule."

"Neither did Jareth," Sevlydi refilled his glass, tracking a goblin scuttling across the wooden floor, placing Sarah's snack in front of her. "He had to learn, as will you."

Sarah shoved cheese in her mouth with a grunt.

"And if - when he returns, then you are at least better situated to take your place as his wife."

Sarah's face went bright red, as she choked on her mouthful of cheese. Sevlydi's face remained impassive, as she sprayed globs of chewed cheese across the table. Once she cleared the obstruction and gulped down copious amounts of water, she levelled a stare in his direction.

"I think not," she answered simply.

"You seemed ultimately more happy at the prospect that he wasn't dead," he raised his brows as he tasted his wine.

"I don't want him dead, because I don't want to be Queen," she countered.

"Your constant denial is getting boring."

"Even if he hadn't tricked me, I could only marry someone for love," she rubbed her watery eyes with the backs of her hands.

"Did you love your husband?"

"Not in the end," she admitted.

"So why is love a factor in a successful marriage?"

"Because love encompasses respect, intimacy, compassion, trust, and all those other pivotal aspects that make a marriage work," Sarah argued. "And we can all agree that I could not possibly trust Ja - him after he pretended to be someone he is not."

"I would counter that Jareth was more himself as Terry than he has ever been as the Goblin King," he sipped his wine with a smirk. "He wears his title like you wear your denial."

Sarah scoffed. "There is no denial. If there is no trust, there can be no respect and certainly no intimacy, so there can be no love."

"You find him attractive and have enjoyed his company?"

"Truthfully, yes," she revealed. "But that could be true of any number of my past boyfriends. It's not a solid foundation for marriage."

"But could you not build your trust?"

"With that philandering fae? You're kidding, right?"

Sevlydi shook his head and muttered into his wine glass.

"Why are you so desperate to see me married to your brother?" Sarah snapped. "I thought you would have hated the idea."

"I wish my brother to be happy."

"And us bickering all the time gives you a reason to believe I would make him happy?" Sarah laughed bitterly.

"Yes."

She threw a look of disbelief his way before she resumed eating her bread and cheese.

"Have you heard of Briyash?"

Sarah glanced up, nodding slowly.

"He has given me plenty of reasons for you to marry Jareth," he explained. "I can't say what they are, but suffice to say that you, him, your Kingdom, your friends and even your family would benefit from your nuptials."

"My family?" Sarah shook her head. "I have no-"

'Your brother, Queen Sarah," he reminded her before standing up. "Tobias Williams."

"How would Toby benefit?" Sarah implored, ignoring the honorific he had used.

"I have already said too much," Sevlydi exited with a swish of his cloak and a slightly tipsy gait.

Using her brother against her was low. Incredibly tempting, but discourteous. Could she put her selfish feelings aside to guarantee her brother's rescue, if that was what Sevlydi was implying? She would do anything for him. She had already proven that once before. But marry Jareth? She didn't understand how marriage to the Goblin King would affect anyone but the two of them.

Sarah sighed and rested her forehead on the tabletop. She cursed Jareth for leaving her in this position. As a teenager, she had often fantasised that the Goblin King would marry her and she would become Queen. He was more than just her imaginary friend-cum-villain. That had all changed when she learnt he was real and not the romantic, dashing figure of her daydreams. It was another lesson in being careful about what you wished for because even if that wish was before her Labyrinth run, it looked like it still had come true.

She banged her head lightly on the table.

"Stupid girl," she told herself, hating the fact she had ever touched that necklace. Had Jareth plotted to make her Queen as part of his revenge? Despite Sevlydi's assurances that he wasn't seeking revenge, it sure felt like it.

"Queenie," came a little voice from beside her. Sarah glanced up to see Cricket perched on the stool beside her. "They are waiting for you in the courtyard. Cricket takes you."

"Who is they, Cricket?"

"Goblins," he tugged on her sleeve. "They are waiting to meet their Queenie."

"I am not -" Sarah saw the look in the goblin's face, and stopped. "I will come and meet them."

Sarah followed the quite speedy goblin through the maze of stairs and corridors to a central courtyard. Goblins lined the cobblestone yard in their dozens. Expectancy marked every face staring up at her. Cricket led her to a slightly elevated stone platform, adorned around each edge with violently coloured blooms of flowers. The walls, equally lined with conical hedges and planter boxes of stone and crystal. She had never seen this area before, but it was beautiful. She wished she had the faculties to appreciate it properly.

Now that Sarah was there, she had no idea what to do. She faced Cricket for assistance. He just cleared his throat, waved his skinny arms and shouted out "Queenie".

The goblins all roared with cheers and bowed low to her. Sarah flushed with surprise but stood her ground.

A rather large, bulbous-nosed goblin, Sarah believed was called Heft, cleared the way through the swollen crowd to stand in front of her. "You wear the shiny moon around your neck. The maze and all of us choose you to be our Queenie."

Sarah's hand instinctively went to the necklace in her pocket. Cricket started tugging on her arm until she brought it out of hiding. In a flash, three goblins scurried up her body and tied the pendant around her neck. Sarah didn't think to question how the medallion now had a cord. Heft nodded and marched back into the swarm of his peers.

"Queenie," came another chorus of cheers, as the goblins jumped off her shoulders.

The raucous continued, only ceasing when a solitary cry was heard above the masses: "Queenie will find Kingy."

"I can only hope," Sarah muttered under her breath. She already felt a headache coming on, and she had only been Queen Regent for less than an hour. The voice silenced the crowd. The goblins all nodding in unison, before they started slowly repeating the phrase.

"We will do our very best to find the King," Sarah declared to thunderous applause.

"We love Queenie," yelled out a voice. "Kingy love Queenie."

Sarah scowled in the direction of that statement before she clapped her hands once. "Keep your hopes up. Scour the Labyrinth for any sign of him. Bring me back your King."

And with that, she turned tail and marched back into the castle. When she was out of everyone's sight, she collapsed against a wall, sliding down until she squatted above the ground.

"See, it wasn't that hard to take up the mantle of the Goblin Queen," Sevlydi squatted opposite her, slightly smirking as she looked up to face him.

"I did what I had to," Sarah rubbed her temples.

"Yes," Sevlydi canted his head. "I think you find that a lot of what makes you hate my brother, was also done because he had to."

"Yes, of course," Sarah mimicked his pose but added a scornful look to her features. "He just had to pretend to be Terry. He absolutely could not have avoided tricking me into becoming his friend, or revealing personal stuff about myself."

"Would you have ever openly trusted Jareth if he had tried to woo you as himself?"

"No, but- ."

"That's all he wanted, Your Majesty," he tapped his knee impatiently. "He just wanted to know you and get you to know him without his responsibilities and your shared past. He hurt you, yes, but he never intended to betray you. His intentions were honourable, even if the repercussions weren't. He never used any of what he learnt against you."

"Even so- ."

"You could spend the rest of your life looking for reasons to hate him, and _you_ will always find them," he continued. "Why can't you care for the person with the crown, as you cared for the same person without one?"

"Because our choices shape us," she snapped. "Our history, our roles, they all constitute who we are. We can't just strip them off and pretend like the rest doesn't exist."

"Yet, you have the luxury of presenting who you are, without having to don a mask," he retorted, snidely. "Tell me, and don't lie, because I saw the contrast myself. Did you not act differently around Terry than you ever did around Jareth?"

"Yes," Sarah gestured with disbelief. "Because of our past and because of who he was. It might not seem like a big deal to you, but in my world tricking people like this is dishonest and a breach of trust."

Sevlydi just raised his brows and tipped his head back against the stone wall.

"And not to mention the fact that I made myself vulnerable to someone who I had grown to trust, who wasn't even real."

Sevlydi pushed up off the ground. "I hope you don't lose something bigger, in your quest to maintain your pride. When Jareth returns, at least hear him out before you decide to neuter him."

Sarah placed her head back in her knees.

* * *

Two weeks passed. Sarah used her pearl, and Sevlydi, his crystals, to find Jareth, but nothing ever changed. However, she was soon distracted by her new role. No-one could suppose that she had accepted the position, but with the goblins looking to her for guidance, it fell naturally to her to provide it. Daunted at first, it became instinctual in a matter of hours. Admittedly, the senior goblins managed most of the day-to-day tasks, and the concerns brought to her were not notable. It did offer a reasonable diversion for her.

Sarah outfitted herself for the role. Currently, Sarah donned a dusky underdress, with a black calfskin-vest with a high collar, and a black and silver cloak fastened with clasps in the configuration of talons. Sarah equipped herself with black knee-high boots and matching buttery-soft leather gloves. The garments had appeared in Sarah's wardrobe soon after she had discovered she was obliged to be the Queen Regent. All her farm clothes had disappeared into the ether, so like her role, she had little choice but to dress in Goblin Queen attire.

Peggy had struggled with seeing Sarah dressed up, bursting into tears whenever she entered a room where the Spriggets were. The other children either teased her good-naturedly or ignored her as they always had. Tessa and Lewis, however, were in awe of her. They were both convinced that she was the Sarah of their stories, which she neither confirmed nor denied. Sir Didymus dedicated himself with chaperoning the family through the castle grounds, so they rarely infringed on her royal duties.

Sarah thought about Hilary a fair bit. Hoggle had tried to contact her, but each time Hilary either wasn't there, or the portal wouldn't open. It was very frustrating. She had asked if there was a way she could see Toby and Sevyldi had drunkenly slurred at her about the rules of magic and his protection. He wouldn't clarify what marriage to Jareth would mean for Toby.

Navas and the Goblin Kingdom exchanged a fair bit of correspondence between them. Heft or Sevlydi, in his increasingly rare moments of sobriety, took responsibility for replying to their letters. As far as Sarah knew, they were not happy that she was the Queen Regent. They demanded action on finding Jareth and wanted one of their Lords to stand in his stead. Sevlydi was aware enough to tell them to fuck off. Sarah found herself not even pleading the Prince to let someone take her place. She didn't dwell on that oddity for long.

The Spriggets left to return to the farm, but not before Helena told her that she knew her aura was more potent than that of a familiar. Sarah cursed that catsuit for all eternity. Her trio of friends disbanded, with Hoggle staying in the castle to assist her, Ludo went to comb the local caves for clues, while Sir Didymus left on a mission with a troop of goblins further afield in search of their king.

Hoggle seemed as grumpy as usual.

"I'd have thought you would be happy at the prospect that the "Rat" was missing," Sarah asked as they patrolled the castle battlements together.

"He may be a rat," Hoggle agreed. "But he is less of a rat than those bigger rats who raised him."

Sarah wanted to agree with him, but as Queen, she felt diplomacy was crucial. She just sighed and carried on walking across the battlements. She had buried most of her emotions deep down, the past two days. Twinges of guilt, sadness or whatever feelings were the reaction du jour, would strike throughout the day, but Sarah bottled them back up. She had to centre all her being on the role of the Queen. Nighttime brought a multitude of thoughts and feelings she had ignored during the waking hours. No-one had given up hope, except Sevlydi who had taken to drinking heavily 26 hours a day.

"I didn't think you would be in a hurry to get him back neither," Hoggle muttered.

"I didn't choose to be Queen Regent," Sarah sighed. "He needs to be found so that I can be relieved of my duties."

"If you say so," Hoggle kicked a stone across the path they were taking. It hit a goblin who shrieked excitedly before running off yapping.

"Hoggle, I have no wish to be Queen."

"You do a better job than the rat," Hoggle scowled.

"It's been two weeks," Sarah laughed. "I don't know what I am doing. It has all been instinctual, thus far. This necklace is probably dictating how to rule, rather than any natural talent. Besides, I have all the King's goblins taking care of things."

"You are still kinder than he is," he argued, thrusting his hands into his pockets.

"Maybe I won't be, if I have to rule for centuries as he has," Sarah came to a sudden realisation. "Perhaps, the role changes you, so give it a few hundred years, and I may be as cruel as he."

Sarah realised the allure Jareth may have felt in pretending to be Terry, the more she walked in his footsteps. She was desperate to once again be 'Sarah' without the role and responsibilities of royalty. And she had only lived it for a fortnight. Sarah couldn't blame him for escaping his chains and experiencing anonymity. But why did he have to do it with her?

Hoggle just grumbled and kicked a few more stones. Hoggle spent most of his life a self-induced hermit. Sarah didn't expect him to understand the craving and the longing to find a cure for loneliness. Or the way complex beings, push and hurt others when they are hurting. Sarah's empathy and her understanding of her teenage loneliness had ensured she forgave Hoggle each time he betrayed her. If you haven't experienced loneliness, could you feel empathetic for other souls trapped as she had been once?

Conceivably, Sarah could extend her empathy towards Jareth if Sevlydi was accurate in the purity of the King's motivations. Two weeks as Queen had given her a taste of his life, and in the end, they weren't too different from one another. Sarah had wished her brother away when the responsibilities became too much. Her cure for loneliness had been to escape into her dreams. How was Jareth any different if he tried to escape into his fantasy?

Sarah savoured the authoritative note her boots gave her and the way her cloak whipped around her as she trekked the stone walls. She could see why Jareth made questionable but fitting fashion choices.

Hoggle excused himself to run an errand, and Sarah was left by herself in the dying light atop the castle parapets. She paused to overlook the Labyrinth, breathing in the crisp jasmine-scented twilight air. Her fingers traced the outline of the horned medallion, its warmth comforting to her.

"Where are you, Jareth?" she asked the breeze and the full moon, one hand on his medallion, while the other clutched the pearl in her pocket. "You're out there somewhere. Come back to me."

Sarah was suddenly struck by a bolt of inspiration while still clasping her two prized pieces of jewellery. "I wish the Goblin King - Jareth - would come home, right now."

A flash of white caught Sarah's eye in the sky above the Labyrinth.

* * *

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: So we're back into lockdown and that means my children are no longer at their Early Childhood Centre so I won't be updating for a while in all likelihood. Got to prioritise my health and my children. Scary times, yet again. :( We found out tonight it is for at least another 12 days as there is only one active cluster at this point. Fingers crossed we beat it like we did last time. 
> 
> Thank you, readers. I appreciate you all coming on this slow burn with me. Two steps forward, three steps back but we will get there. Eventually. 


	17. Chapter Sixteen

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

At a tremendous rate, a bundle of white and tan feathers plummeted towards the ground amidst the maze.

Sarah instinctively knew what paths to take. Deeper and deeper, she travelled into the Labyrinth. She was alone, not having bothered to waste time telling anyone where she was going. The deeper Sarah progressed through the twists and turns, the faster her feet flew. She encountered no obstacles, and before long, she apprehended she was close to her destination. A few more corners, and there Sarah located her target.

Jareth was lying in a crumpled, bloody heap on the stones of the Labyrinth. Sarah rushed over to him, dropping straight into a kneel to ascertain if he was still alive. What she saw was nauseating. His hair was all burnt off, and he had scars, blood and burns marring his face. His clothes were all in tatters, and whip marks crisscrossed every exposed part of his skin. Sarah swallowed the rising bile and gently tapped him on the shoulder.

"Jareth?" she tapped him on the shoulder again. He was unsurprisingly unconscious. Sarah took a deep breath before she rolled him over onto his back. She stuck her hand under Jareth's nose, relieved to feel hot air against her skin. Sarah watched his chest for a while to confirm he was breathing. She exhaled, rubbing her palm against her sweaty brow. How was Sarah going to transport Jareth to the castle? Sarah didn't want to leave him there while she left for assistance. She prepared to roll him into the recovery position when he regained consciousness, albeit gradually.

"Sarah," she heard him utter, barely audible. She tore her eyes off his chest to look into his red, swollen eyes. There was no blue to be seen.

"Jareth, I need you to turn into an owl if you can, so I can carry you to Gilo," she ordered, as his bloody and battered hand lifted slightly towards her.

"You're still here," he croaked, sucking in lungfuls of air as that one little sentence caused him to cough and splutter, specks of blood flying out with the phlegm.

"An owl, now please," Sarah commanded. "If you have the strength."

"I have so much to say-" he rasped. "To you."

"And you will get a chance, Jareth," she growled. "I will still be here, as I have no choice. Now please stop wasting time, and turn into an owl or I am going to have to leave you to get help."

'Or drag your sorry arse back myself,' she thought acerbically. Jareth's eyes wavered before closing again. She cursed out loud but paused before uttering an entire string of profanities when he finally obeyed, transforming into an owl. Sarah ripped her cloak off, scooping up the battered, mangled owl, cradling Jareth in her arms with the wrap for warmth.

Sarah headed back to the castle, again knowing which path to take. She was slower on the return journey, not wanting to joggle Jareth too much. His owl-eyes peered up at her, without blinking, which after a while became a little disconcerting.

"Stop staring," Sarah muttered as she glanced down to check on his respiration. He clicked his mandibles feebly at her when his owl-eyes seemed to notice his medallion hanging around her neck. Jareth's eyes widened in response, before flicking back up to Sarah's face. She gritted her teeth and accepted that he was going to stare at her the entire way back home.

'Home?' That was a new thought. One that she shoved back into the deep recesses of her mind. 'Home' was where Toby was, and that was the end of that. Sarah could step down from her role as the Queen Regent, with the King being back, alive. Once he was healed, and she had vented her spleen against him, she would demand that he found a way to return her to Toby.

Sarah looked down at the pathetic, bloody mass of bent, torn, and broken feathers held like a babe-in-arms. Of course, he was still watching her with an indecipherable look on his owl face. She sighed and pulled him tighter to her chest. He briefly blinked at her before he snuggled deeper into her.

"You're much preferable as a barn owl," she told him as they finally approached the city. Jareth remained still and quiet, with his eyes solely on her. "You're at least not able to lie to me."

Jareth made a rasping sound before his black eyes fluttered closed. Sarah watched his chest rise and fall, and with relief, marginally hastening her step. She bypassed the city relatively quickly. She ordered a goblin in her path to summon Gilo and Prince Sevlydi.

"Yes, Queenie," the goblin responded, scuttling off through the darkened streets. If she hadn't been the Queen, these dark passages would have shaken her resolve. At the goblin's use of Sarah's new title, Jareth's eyes darted open to gawk at her again. She cleared her throat, glaring determinedly in front of her. Jareth responded by making the raspy noise once more and then settling back into her arms. She hoped he didn't think she wanted the role or sought to usurp him. However, as soon as she had that thought, it gave Sarah a fleeting moment of smug satisfaction to let him believe she had seized his power and throne.

"Queen Sarah?" Sevlydi's voice travelled down from the castle's main front door. Both him and Gilo raced down towards her. "A goblin summoned us, is everything fine?"

"Jareth," Sarah raised the bundle slightly to indicate his location. "I found him."

It was too dark to see the expressions on their faces, but they both burst towards her instantly.

"It's an owl," Gilo said as he approached. "An injured owl, but how do you know-"

"She knows," Sarah could tell Sevlydi was grinning by the moonlight glinting off his teeth. "It's him, isn't it?"

"Yes," Sarah let herself be guided towards the castle by Gilo, gripping her elbow. "I asked him to turn into an owl as I believed that was easier to carry than his fae body. Gilo, he is a bloody, burnt mess."

"Fair call, Your Majesty," Gilo responded. "Let's get him in bed and start healing him, shall we?"

They remained silent until they reached Jareth's chambers. Sarah lay the owl down in his bed, leaving her cloak underneath him. Gilo rushed into position, to tend to his master, while Sarah backed away. Seeing what Jareth had gone through to ensure her safety, brought up some very conflicting emotions. She needed to be angry with him for his betrayal, but how could you confront such a weak, pathetic creature in his current state? As she watched Gilo and Sevlydi fuss over their king, he transformed back into his non-avian state.

Jareth turned his head to look at her as she retreated towards the door. His red eyes looked worse in the light of the fire, candles and lanterns than the moonlight she had first discovered him in. Purple bruises rimmed the bloodshot eyes. His hair singed off, and the scars, deep and unforgiving reminding her that there was a cost to trust. Her stomach roiled at the sight of his mangled body. He coughed violently, a trickle of blood raced down the corner of his mouth to drip onto his silk pillows. Sarah watched it with morbid fascination.

Sarah observed his raw, blistered hand limply move as if Jareth was trying to reach for her. She swallowed as she took in his look of agony stamped across his face. Was it the pain of moving, or the pain that she would not go to him that he wore? Sevlydi gave her a hardened stare before Sarah retreated further. Jareth winced, shut his eyes and seemed to fall unconscious again, as she left through the open door.

Sarah needed fresh air after seeing so much damage to her villain. She sought to clear her head, and then when she got a few things straight, she would return to his sickbed. Sarah did hope in earnest that it was not his deathbed.

* * *

The two men had worked diligently on healing their king, that much was apparent when Sarah reentered the room. Jareth was out cold. But he had been cleaned up, and bandages with salves applied to all his burns and scars. Gilo informed her that he had taken his dosages of healing potions and over the next few days, as he took more medicine, and had his dressings changed, he would be right as rain. The healer took his leave with a low genuflection.

Sarah stood awkwardly, as she took all his words in, nodding when appropriate. Sevlydi washed his hands in a basin, never taking his eyes off her. He approached her, gently resting his hand on her shoulder.

"Thank you, for how swiftly you rescued him," his eyes swam with emotion. "Gilo admitted that he would not have survived had you not been so quick."

"I did what I must," Sarah looked over to the injured fae, asleep under reams of linen wraps. "Tell the goblin, Grygiel, to announce the return of their King."

"Your Majesty," Sevlydi swooped low, before also taking his leave. Sarah took a seat near the King to watch over him as he slept. Until he was conscious and able, she would still hold the crown, but she wasn't going to risk anything happening to him until she could return his medallion, or bestow her ire.

Sarah had drifted off. When she awoke, Gilo was tending to Jareth's wounds. Sarah set about immediately assisting him, taking up the job of cooling him down with a damp sponge.

"What do you think happened?" she asked, her voice croaky from just waking up.

"He has been burnt and struck with enchanted whips," Gilo theorised. "The flames and the whips both are wounds unhealing."

"But you can heal them?"

"Yes, but the wounds would have been magically kept open and painful, never healing, while they added more damage to him," Gilo clarified. "They also kept him cuffed with iron to weaken him and dampen his magic. And I have noticed imp bites all over him, and they are painful, poisonous and slow to heal. It's a miracle he lived through all of that."

Gilo indicated the welts surrounding his wrists and around Jareth's neck, and pointed to some tiny holes in sets of two, all around his arms and neck.

"He escaped somehow," Sarah bit her lips. "Will his hair grow back?"

"Your- er- Majesty, it is the least of our concerns," Gilo admonished.

"Not the least of his though," Sarah dabbed gently at his hair with the sponge Gilo had offered her. She'd imagine he would be more distressed about his hair, than his skin. It was singed from the fire almost to the scalp in places, matted and torn in others. "But surely his hair will grow back."

"Indeed it will," the healer agreed. "He will be left with nary a scar on his entire body."

"Why is he not conscious?"

"Despite all the potions and balms, the King has suffered poisoning from the magic, and the iron they used to bind him," Gilo expounded. "It has left him very weak."

Sarah left Jareth to Gilo's attention, while she freshened up in the bath, changing her outfit to something more comfortable. Upon returning to Jareth's chambers, she took up a book and read throughout the day. Goblins brought her meals, and she would only put down her book to attend to Jareth with Gilo or to occasionally glance at the unconscious male. By the afternoon, Sarah dozed in her armchair to reconcile her deficit of sleep the night before.

The next day passed in the same fashion. Sevlydi appeared frequently but only ever glanced at her before sitting with his brother. On one occasion, he remarked on her constant presence.

"As Queen Regent, it is justified and expected that I watch over the King," was all she offered in explanation, jutting her chin out defiantly. She could hardly justify to herself why she was always here, let alone to the Prince. He, at last, had stopped seeking answers at the bottom of wine goblets.

Jareth looked much better than he had been, with fewer bandages, and his open wounds no longer festering and were starting to close. The burns had diminished to patches of red skin, blister-free and smooth. His eyes, while she couldn't see if they were bloodshot, had at least returned from purple, back to his typical skin colour. Gilo and the goblins had dressed Jareth in a fresh nightshirt. They had thrown the scraps of the outfit he had worn to the ball in the rubbish.

* * *

Late on the third day, Sarah was arranging some flowers in a vase with her back to Jareth's bed. She had brought her music crystal with her, so she was currently singing softly along to Madonna's 'I'll Remember,' as she snipped the ends off the stems, before sliding them back into the water.

_Inside I was a child_

_That could not mend a broken wing_

_Outside I looked for a way_

_To teach my heart to sing_

_And I'll remember_

_The love that you gave me_

_Now that I'm standing on my own_

When Sarah was twenty-two and staying with her family, over Christmas, Karen would sing this song almost daily. The lyrics hit her then as poignant for the love she found for her step-mother and her half brother, but now the song had more meaning since Karen's death.

_I'll remember_

_I learned_

_To let go_

_Of the illusion_

_That we can possess_

Sarah admitted that a double meaning could exist since returning to the Labyrinth. She could never forget the lessons she learnt or the friends she made. A little tear tried to squeeze it's way out of her eyes as she listened to the last words of the song. Sarah missed Karen, now more than ever.

Now I'll never be afraid to cry.

Now I finally have a reason why.

"Sarah," a croaky voice interrupted her singing. Sarah spun around, dropping the secateurs. Jareth was lying in his bed, his hand shielding his eyes from the morning light, but conscious. Without saying a word, she darted out of the room to retrieve Sevlydi and Gilo. Fortuitously, a goblin scampered down the corridor ahead of her.

"Cookie," Sarah called. The goblin halted and spun around. "Fetch the Prince and the Healer. Immediately."

Sarah returned to his chambers, with more caution. Jareth was trying to sit up, causing Sarah to swear and rush over to him.

"Lie back down," Sarah instructed, not looking him in the eyes.

"Sarah," he groaned, as Sarah plumped up his pillows. "I am sorry."

"Gilo and Sevlydi are on their way," Sarah interjected. She wasn't yet ready to hear what Jareth had to say. While Sarah had been concerned for his well-being, it had been infinitely more straightforward to care when he was unconscious. Conscious, Sarah's pride and sense of wrongdoing were back at the forefront, not to mention her self-respect. No self-respecting woman should fold or bend to another's whims just because of the mortal danger they had experienced, even if that mortal peril was on her behalf. It may lessen her scorn, but would not, and should not eliminate it thoroughly. Gratitude, yes; forgiveness, not yet. But she guessed there was now potential after what Jareth had done for her.

"Sarah," he tried again.

"Save your strength, Your Majesty," she said levelly.

"You're alive," he gasped. "They told me - they told me you were dead."

"No, I am very much alive," she moved back to the vase she had been tending, stopping the music ('Tainted Love' did not fit the tone or the current mood). She picked up her secateurs and turned back to him. "And you're very fortunate to be so, as well."

Jareth looked like he was about to say something else, but Sevlydi rushed in at that moment.

"Brother," he knelt at this bedside. "You're awake."

"How long have I been gone?" Jareth asked, tearing his eyes away from Sarah to Sevlydi.

"A fortnight Jar," Sev rested his head against his brother's arm. "We couldn't find you. What did they do to you?"

"They tried to capture me," Jareth swallowed, his voice strained. Gilo entered at this time and in a flurry began to administer water, and other elixirs. "Once Sarah's safety was assured, I stopped impeding them with my magic. By rights, I was so weakened they should have found capturing me easy. But they still could not touch me. I am hypothesising that the Labyrinth's magic is stronger than theirs. So we fought. I won. I destroyed their fort and injured the Pinnsburrs."

"And then where did you go for two weeks?" Sevlydi asked, frowning.

"I was flagging and had lost my medallion in the fight," Jareth explicated, briefly turning his eyes onto Sarah. "I took flight into the foothill forests. I was re-captured while resting and secured in a cage, by unknown captors. Then I was tortured for days by creatures who were _not_ the Pinnsburrs."

"What happened to the Pinnsburrs?" Sevlydi questioned. "I imagine your second captors had enough power to hide you from our scrying attempts."

"Injured, but not dead," he answered through gritted teeth. "Where they went after I blew up the fort, I know not."

"How did you escape your second captors?"

"I am unsure," his shoulders slumped, and his head fell back into the pillow. "I was in my cell, awaiting the next session of torture when suddenly I was flying over the Labyrinth, but in my depleted state, I could not sustain flight."

Sarah caught her lip between her teeth. She had wished for Jareth, and he had appeared. Had her magic started manifesting once more? Had she rescued Jareth by a mere wish? Surely if it was that simplistic, Sevlydi could have wished for Jareth's freedom just the same. The Medallion seemed to thrum in response to her questions. Her hand reached up to grip on to the crescent-shaped pendant. Sarah was about to admit her theory before Sevlydi stood up suddenly.

"Why on earth did you let yourself get captured, you idiot?" Sevlydi growled.

"You know why," Jareth and Sevlydi both flicked their eyes to Sarah who still stood there simultaneously gripping onto the secateurs and the medallion, her mouth agape.

Sevlydi cleared his throat and turned back to his brother. "There is a lot we need to discuss, but perhaps you need to rest first."

Gilo nodded enthusiastically, while Sarah deposited the gardening scissors on the table, preparing to slip out.

"I need to talk to Sarah," Jareth tried sitting back up.

"You need rest, Your Majesty," Gilo warned. "And Her Majesty can talk to you when you are feeling a bit more yourself."

Sarah flinched, as Jareth's ice-cool blues swept over her, from her face, down to the medallion. She straightened under his gaze, not one to cower, nor feel shame for the situation she had no control over. She was obliged to be the Queen. She didn't choose this. Without a word, she strode out of his room, followed by Sevlydi and eventually Gilo.

* * *

Jareth had dozed back off after everyone had left him. He woke to see Sevlydi sitting next to him.

"Have you left my side at all, brother?" Jareth asked him, with concern.

"It wasn't me that barely left your side," Sevlydi confessed. "It was the Queen."

"The Queen - " Jareth coughed. "Did you marry her, Sev?"

"No, Jar," Sevlydi sighed. Jareth didn't think he would ever marry his wife from underneath him, but stranger things have happened. "Would I do that to you?"

"Pray, tell me, how is she the Queen?"

"She picked up your medallion when we followed your pearl to your location," Sevlydi shrugged, before inspecting his nails. "The goblins and the Labyrinth both chose her, and so she has reigned as Queen Regent for two weeks. At first, we suspected you had chosen her to rule, but consulting the goblins, and then the elder elves, we learnt differently."

"And she accepted this happily?"

"No."

"But yet, she is still here," Jareth inhaled deeply.

"She is compelled," Sevlydi grimaced at Jareth's rising hope. "The magic of the Labyrinth and the medallion compels her. You know this."

"She saved me, Sev," Jareth allowed himself a weak smile. "She carried me in her arms to safety."

"She doesn't want to rule, Jar."

"She didn't leave my side, you just said-"

"Jareth, she selfishly wanted you alive so she can return to her normal, boring life," Sevlydi said sharply. "She knows that you were Terry, and she is unforgiving. Do not build up any expectations."

"I traded my life for hers," Jareth tried shifting his body but quit when the pain increased. "That has to mean something to her."

"You're a fucking idiot," Sevlydi muttered. "Why didn't you just tell her? Then this could have been avoided."

"I tried," Jareth scowled. "But then I was interrupted by a goblin announcing that you needed me urgently."

"Oh, I am not going to apologise for that," Sevlydi stood up with irritation printed on his face. "If you hadn't have bothered with this entire ruse, I would never have put Rica in the precarious position he is now situated. You had more than one opportunity to tell her the truth."

Jareth closed his eyes. He had a lot of atoning to arrange. "What would you have had me do?"

"You should have just married the mortal and wooed her as you went," he curled his hands into fists. "You would have had a challenge, but you wouldn't have brought all this attention to yourself, for avoiding Forsythia."

" _Sarah_ would never have agreed to marry me without force, or magical compulsion," Jareth growled. For all his scheming, he didn't want to have to stoop to forcing her to marry, via bribery. "I wanted it to be her choice."

"And you think she will choose to marry you now?"

Jareth knew Sevlydi was right. She would be more than a little irritated that he had pretended to be Terry.

"After all your deceit and trickery, you are now further behind than you were to start with," Sevlydi continued. "You will end up married to Forsythia, regardless of your feelings now."

"I still have a chance," Jareth muttered weakly. Fatigue was making his tone petulant and possessive. Mine, the voice in his head kept repeating when he thought of Sarah. "She forgave Hoggle, and she may yet forgive me."

"There is no time," Sevlydi produced a letter, placing it next to Jareth on his bed. "Nudalun and Omre are very displeased with you. They have informally announced your planned engagement to Forsythia. She is to be Queen, and you are to cut the mortal loose. If you don't discard her, they will do it for you. They will be here very soon to sign the contract for you to commence courting."

Jareth's face paled. "No."

"I didn't want to tell you while you are recovering, but it's the truth," Sevlydi retreated to his chair with slumped shoulders. "I am sorry, Jar."

"How can they just engage me to someone against my will?"

"Because you have ignored their orders to marry," he reasoned. "Because you flaunted Sarah in their faces, you shall marry Forsythia. Because the Pinnsburrs captured you- showing the Underground that you are vulnerable, you shall marry Forsythia. Because you are showing weakness, you shall marry Forsythia. Because the Queen Regent is a mortal, you shall marry Forsythia. Need I go on?"

"None of that is reason enough."

A surge of resentment rushed through him that his perceived weakness was Sarah. He had been so bullheaded with his plans to get Sarah to marry him, that he hadn't considered how the council and his family would use her as collateral to get what they wanted. He knew their distaste for mortals was intense, but he also knew their aversion to him was just as powerful. His mother had a mortal ancestor after all. The whole situation was frustrating as it was confusing.

"Welcome, to Navas rule," Sevlydi responded with a sardonic grimace. "You can't marry for love and nor can I."

Jareth couldn't believe it; he had fought life and limb to rescue Sarah, only to find himself about to be engaged to someone he couldn't tolerate. Sevlydi was right about the ridiculousness of Navas Rule. Sarah had once mentioned absurd Aboveground laws she had encountered in her previous occupation. Her job had involved fighting for injudiciously disadvantaged people. At this point, he came to appreciate her penchant for fairness.

"You have no idea who the captors were after you broke free from the Pinnsburrs?"

"They weren't the Pinnsburrs," Jareth took the letter Sevlydi had placed beside him. "They sent Vile-Brownies to do the torture, but I have no clue as to their masters."

"Would Nudalun and Omre have been involved?"

"Having me placated and beaten into submission would suit their purposes for controlling the Labyrinth," Jareth growled. "How long have I got until the formal announcement of my engagement?"

"Half a year, of course," Sevlydi answered. A Royal Navas wedding, started with a half year-long formal courting period, before the betrothal declaration, followed by a half-year of engagement before the official nuptials.

"So I have time," he sunk back into his pillow. If he had to go behind his family's back and marry his champion in secret, so be it. He would have to convince her to do so, but at least he still had a slither of hope. It also consoled Jareth that even if he married Forsythia, she could never claim the title of Goblin Queen. Not now that Sarah had claimed her rightful title during his absence.

* * *

"You're a liar," Sevlydi addressed the Queen Regent as she paced up and down the corridor outside the throne room.

"Excuse me?"

"You insist you do not want to be Queen, but you lie to yourself as well as to everyone else," he hissed. "You enjoy the power, so stop with the hypocrisy by berating Jareth for his lie, when every action you take, is a lie against your very nature."

Sarah laughed. "Even if what you said was true, the lies would still not cancel each other out, Sevlydi."

"Stop lying," Sevlydi stalked off without a backwards glance. "It's time to take up your destiny, Your Majesty."

* * *

The throne room was an unmitigated disaster zone. Sarah sat upon the throne, tapping her foot impatiently. Hopefully, she wouldn't have to rule this rowdy bunch for much longer. Over the past few days, Jareth had started gaining strength. She had successfully avoided him, but Cricket had told her he could now walk with the aid of a cane. Jareth had repeatedly asked for an audience with her, but Sarah was not willing. Her hesitation was not just over the Terry issue, but Forsythia too. Not that she had a claim to Jareth's affections, but seeing them at the ball about to kiss, repeated in her mind, like a slideshow. She did not want to admit to envy.

"Queenie, the jhirl has reappeared in the west quadrant," ChipChop announced as he read the daily report.

"OK," Sarah pinched the bridge of her nose. "Find the closest rock-caller, and see if they can fix the wall that keeps letting the jhirl into the Labyrinth. Deliver two cart fulls of turnips to the vicinity. Then ask the gardeners to plant some more turnips around the marsh to keep them from wandering in. If they have more food, they may stop trying to seek it elsewhere."

"Yes, Your Majesty," Chipchop scampered off.

"How did you know jhirl only eat turnips?" came a smooth, baritone voice. From the shadows of the throne room, came the king, limping with the support of a carved silver cane, producing a resonant metallic tap with every second stride. His eyes fixed onto hers, and Sarah had to resist the urge to scramble off his throne. Instead, she straightened, raising her head, so she was looking down on him. Her gloved fingers tapped impatiently upon the arm of the throne. Wearing such supple leather gloves had become an addiction. She understood why Jareth always wore a pair.

"Your advisors have advised me," Sarah answered, returning Jareth's dark stare. His hair was still badly butchered, but his face was almost perfect once more, except one scar slashed across his brow and cheekbone.

Your solution was a practical one," he stated, watching the goblins as they retreated from his unusual stick. They probably thought it was something with which he would use to hit them. They wouldn't be wrong. "Your advisors complement you well."

Sarah didn't quite know what to make of his statements. Jareth acknowledging her Queenship was astonishing. She nodded in response, and then dubious about her next move, she stood. Should she now defer to the Goblin King, or should she continue? She masked her uncertainty with the veneer of confidence.

"Session has ended for the day," she announced loudly, before stepping down the dais. Jareth inclined his head to her as she swept out of the room. On the outside, she was cool, calm, and collected, but internally her nerves were flaring, and her guts and circulatory system were raging rivers of unease. She heard the tapping of his cane as he followed her.

Sarah made her way to Jareth's study, approaching his desk but not sitting. He entered after her, closing the door.

"You make a brilliant Queen of the Goblins," Jareth said as he faced her. Sarah blinked but set her jaw, keeping her mouth drawn into a tight line.

"Am I so very repulsive, Sarah?" he asked. Sarah recoiled at the open honesty in his question. "You won't even look at me."

"You think me shallow enough to be swayed by someone's outwards appearance?" Sarah shook her head. Jareth raised his upturned brows, causing the scar to gape and stretch.

"You're still angry with me?" he asked, one brow lowering, the other rising.

"Still?" Sarah laughed without mirth. "You deceived me."

"I did not know you cared so very much about Terry to feel so strongly," Jareth raised upturned hands to display his sincerity.

"Bullshit," she took a calming breath. That was the only emotional outburst she would allow.

"My intent was not to harm you, Sarah," he reasoned. "I know I have a lot to answer for, but it was never about revenge."

"Why?" Sarah was losing control of the situation. She had led him here so she could return his necklace and pearl, before departing for Ghent. Hopefully, avoiding this confrontation that was weeks, maybe months overdue. She inhaled. Sarah Williams was not a coward; she would face this conversation with aplomb. "Why did you do it then?"

"Can we sit, please?" his bare hands gripped the knob of the cane tighter as he pleaded with her. Sarah complied, guiding Jareth to two comfortable armchairs in the corner of his study. Sarah wasn't quite ready to relinquish the command of the situation, by suffering him to sit behind his desk, while she sat opposite him.

Once they were both seated and comfortable, Jareth twirled his cane between thumb and finger. Sarah watched the depression forming in the worn rug as he fiddled with the stick. She waited for him to be the first to talk.

"I would like to thank you for discovering me, and returning me so promptly to the castle," he finally said. Sarah nodded but refused to look up from her study of the rug. "It was more than I deserved, but there is no-one I would prefer to owe my life to, than you."

Green eyes collided with blue, but tension hung heavy between the two. Jareth held out a hand. In his palm rested a decorative flower from her hair the night of the ball.

"Hogspit - Hog _gle_ \- gave me this the night of the ball," his long fingers enclosed around the flower again. "To remind me of what I had lost and for what I had to die fighting. Trust is precious and fragile, and this replica is no substitute. It did keep me focused on enduring their trials. Would you like it back?"

A shake of the head.

"You want to shout at me," he said. Sarah _would_ prefer to get this over and done with by yelling at him, rather than this strained politeness. Again, she couldn't find the words to answer him. She just blinked and knitted her brows at his statement. "Shout at me if it will help you feel better. I'd rather your forthrightness to your apathy."

Sarah rubbed her nose, glancing away from him, as she collected her thoughts. Weeks of having imaginary arguments with Jareth had still left her ill-prepared for the reality.

"Have you enjoyed your time as Queen?" he asked, trying another tack. Sarah flicked her eyes back to him, shifting in her seat, and cocking her head.

"Queen Regent," Sarah stipulated, quietly. It was only a temporary gig, but she could still feel the compulsion of the Labyrinth within her. Her work was not complete. Maybe it would cease when she removed the chain. She tugged discretely at the cord, but it remained clasped and unmoving.

"And did you enjoy it?"

"Of course I didn't," Sarah said through clenched teeth. "I never wanted the job. I certainly didn't ask for it. And as soon as you are ready, you can have the damn thing back."

Jareth's hands on his cane stilled. "Sarah, I-."

"Your Majesty," Sarah cut him off, coldly. "I am exceptionally pleased that you have returned and have recovered your health. I will be leaving the Castle as soon as you are capable of resuming your duties. I will not hold you to any promises made before the ball in regards to the offering of a job. I respectfully decline, but I thank you for the opportunity extended to me."

If Sarah had to pick a single word to describe Jareth's expression while he listened to her talk, she would select 'confounded'. His mouth gaped open, and his brows had dissolved into the remains of his burnt flyaway hair. Sarah wished she started this entire interaction with frosty aloofness, instead of the emotional outburst she'd preceded with, earlier. She should never have asked him why he betrayed her. It only served to reveal her vulnerability and showed him that she cared. Sarah's goal was indifference. In another life, her ambition was to be an actor. It was time to save face and act her heart out.

Before you decide to flee, we should speak together," he rationalised. "I have yet to tell you why I did what I did."

Sarah indicated, offhandedly that he should proceed, before leaning back in her chair. It wasn't too late to reclaim some emotional ground.

"Sevlydi recognised you from my descriptions at the parade," Jareth began. "He went back to Ghent to find you and establish that you were my- that you were Sarah, the Champion. Once he ascertained that you were who he thought you were, he took me in disguise to see you. He didn't want to cause a stir with our public personas, and I didn't know where he was taking me."

Jareth started twirling his cane again, watching her face intently. He took a deep breath and continued.

"When I saw you, and you didn't see through my glamour, I was suddenly desperate to see you as genuine as you undoubtedly were. I saw your authentic self, and I admit, it was addictive. You were also seeing me in a positive light. As the King, you only saw me as your villain, but as Terry, I was your friend. Sevlydi tried to make me quit it early on, but I stupidly thought I could win you over this way. It was manipulative and a betrayal of trust."

He closed his eyes and exhaled. "I was a coward. I didn't own up to what I was doing, and when I saw the damage it - _I_ was doing, I decided to have Terry hurt you, instead of admitting my wrongdoing. I have led a somewhat lonely existence, and it made me reckless."

"I see," Sarah had been right at least about understanding that his dire need for company, had driven his treachery. It wasn't an excuse, but at least a reason.

"I was at least self-aware enough to never take advantage of you physically," he went on. "I was lost in you, in the genuine you, without the defiance and the loathing you save just for my sake. It was selfish and cruel. In my arrogance and pride, I overlooked how you felt, and would feel if you knew the truth."

Hearing him speak of his faults, plainly and honestly, stirred something in Sarah, but she wasn't ready to make nice just yet. "Interesting that you drew _that_ line in the sand."

"I have some scruples, Sarah," he flexed one of his bare hands. "Though, I daresay not as many as you think I should have."

"I think you have been very self-serving," Sarah retaliated. "And while I understand your reasons, I can not condone them."

"I have, you are right," he cleared his throat. "I had less pride as Terry. I could apologise to you like it was nothing. Can you believe that I became jealous of Terry, of myself? I wanted Terry to disappear because I had grown tired of the ruse. It was self-indulgent of me yet again because I wanted you to want _me_ , not Terry. The closer you got to Terry, the more I resented him. I could pretend my reasons are noble, but in truth, I didn't want to share you with someone I could never be."

Jareth lapsed into silence, a hand over his mouth, his eyes guarded. Sarah knew, with her issues of pride, that it took a lot for him to confess his flaws. The Goblin King had many layers to him, and Sarah was just starting to discover his hidden depths. Jareth's arrogance and his cruelty may have been a facade, but Sarah couldn't deny that those elements penetrated his many other layers to some degree. She bit her lip and resumed studying the pattern of the rug briefly, before firmly raising her chin to meet his brazen stare.

"I should have had more faith in you," he grimaced as if in pain. "I should have known you could forgive me for the past, and not tried to trick you into trusting me as I did. Instead, you hate me more, and I've made forgiveness impossible. I will regret what I've done until the day I pass over. However, I won't ever regret loving you, Sarah. Not now, not ever. I did what I did because I wanted your love, untainted. I was foolish to think that I could have something so pure, when in the end, having your love despite our history would be so much more valuable."

Sarah flushed red as she tore her eyes away from Jareth. He had admitted he loved her, and to just throw it in amongst his monologue, without warning, made her more than a little tense. Sarah was troubled, not merely because she mistrusted Jareth's veracity, but he applied it as a justification for his hurtful behaviours.

"Will you not say anything, Sarah?"

"What can I say?" Sarah shrugged. "All of this explains one aspect of your contemptuous behaviour, but it doesn't explain Forsythia and your kiss."

"Kiss?" Jareth frowned. Sarah swallowed. Admitting that she cared about their kiss, would be tantamount to declaring she was jealous. What happened to not showing him any more vulnerabilities? "Sarah? I -"

They were interrupted by a knock at the door. Jareth groaned as Sarah rose to answer the door. It was Sevlydi.

"Is my brother in here?" he asked.

Sarah indicated that he was. Sevlydi swept past Sarah with no further acknowledgement.

"Your fiance is here," Sevlydi announced to Jareth. "Forsythia Pinnsburr and her parents are here to accept your proposal to court her."

When Jareth looked up to explain to Sarah, she was gone.

* * *

Winding paths and twisting streams encapsulated the garden Sarah found herself in. She had discovered this small walled garden, complete with large, enveloping trees, with small grassy glades during her reign as Queen Regent. She avoided the garden with the 'owl and pearl' carving like the plague, these days. This garden, on the other hand, was the only place the goblins seemed to leave her alone. She sank into a nook of vines and branches, strong enough to take her weight.

Sarah could no sooner count the leaves in the trees above her than she could make sense of her feelings regarding Jareth. Her vow of remaining emotionless had all but been thrown to the wind when she had to bring up Forsythia. And then to discover he had proposed courtship to her, let those dark feelings of suspicion to seep back in. Her feelings had been mere sport to him. Despite having risked and nearly ending his life to save hers, perhaps Meffod and Yarbro had been right about Jareth seeking revenge against her.

It still didn't make sense that Jareth had risked his life for her. That would throw her into a quandary again, knowing that the revenge theory fell apart with that heroic act of rescuing her. Unless it was regret, but then why engage himself to that fae, if he had intentions towards her? And what of the Pearl theory? As ludicrous as it was, it suddenly became something of an anchor for her thoughts.

Jareth had, after all, confessed he loved her, but that could just be manipulation on his part. She wouldn't put it past him. To concede he loved her but then propose a courtship of Forsythia, was another string in his bow to entangle her feelings.

Her thoughts were distracted by the voice of Cricket, who was calling her. With a sigh, she rolled out of her refuge and revealed herself to the kind goblin.

"Your Majesty," Cricket bowed. "You are wanted to greet your guests."

She rolled her eyes. Sarah highly doubted she was required, and she didn't desire to be around any company, but she channelled her inner Queen, following the goblin indoors, with her head held high.

The door to the throne room was open when Cricket left her there. Taking a deep breath, she strode through the entrance to see Jareth sitting in his throne, with Forsythia on her knees afore him. Behind her stood two pointy blonde faes, resembling Meffod and Yarbro, with minor differences. She assumed these were Forsythia's parents.

"Ah, here is the Queen Regent," Jareth's crisp blue eyes found her as she marched into the chamber. Forsythia didn't deign to turn around, but the two parental figures condescended to cast a disdainful glance in her direction. "As the current reigning monarch during my convalescence period, I suggested that you ought to be here."

Sarah drew up to her full height but remained closed-lipped. Jareth tapped his fingers atop his cane as he waited for a response and when he garnered he wouldn't receive one, he looked down upon Forsythia again.

"This is Miss Forsythia Pinnsburr and her parents, Lady Alutoieru and Kweko Pinnsburr," Jareth waved his hands in their direction. "And this is my Queen Regent Sarah Williams-Hi'livé, my Champion of the Labyrinth and my Ambassador."

Sarah wanted to roll her eyes at the number of times he said "my" but remained stony-faced and distant.

"Miss Pinnsburr here is to be my wife, according to the magistrates of the High Court, my brother and sister, and even my dear father," Jareth's voice was clear, but Sarah almost detected the hint of scorn laced in his polite words. "I was just explaining to Lady Pinnsburr and her husband that marriage does not entitle her to the crown, and her role would simply be that of a queen consort. The goblins bequeath the title of Goblin Queen to the worthy individual, as you are well aware, having received it yourself."

Lady Pinnsburr shot Sarah a scathing look before turning her attention back to the King. Sarah just remained a blank canvass, even as Jareth's eyes bored into her again.

"So you see we are in quite a predicament," he tapped his cane three times upon his dais. "Miss Pinnsburr wants the crown, as well as matrimony to yours truly, and her parents request the same."

Sarah felt the pendant around her neck burn in response to Jareth's words. The Labyrinth did not want Forsythia as a Queen. That gave Sarah some satisfaction. Still, she remained silent. As angry as she was with Jareth, seeing the results of his torture, gave her sympathy to his plight. He deserved a lot of things, but being married to this Navas-Pinnsburr puppet was not something she would encourage if she could help it. After all, her friends Hoggle, and the Spriggets, would all suffer if Navas used their puppet to gain control of the Labyrinth. Sarah was protective of the Labyrinth and by extension, its King. She may not like him as a person, but as a monarch, and her current counterpart, she had Jareth's best interests at heart.

"We humbly beseech that you replace the mortal with our fae daughter," Alutoieru brought her two hands together as if in prayer. "She will make you a sweet and docile wife. Forsythia has been instructed for many years to be the ideal companion for you; she is obedient, taciturn, and she will be a slave to your every whim."

Sarah flinched at the mention of the word 'slave.' Jareth's face crumpled into pure rage, but as quickly as it had come, he had schooled his features into indifference.

"You dare insult my preferences for a wife, by suggesting that I would want nothing but a sycophant for a wife," he said coolly, as he straightened the fingers of his gloves.

Alutoieru blanched and her husband, Kweko huffed next to her. "We meant no offence."

"You meant every offence," Jareth smirked, a dangerous glint shining in his eyes. "You refer to my Queen as a mortal, instead of addressing her properly. _Queen_ Sarah is more than a mortal, and you do not deserve to be standing in her presence."

"Sire, your father King Effistod has ordered this marriage-," Alutoieru implored.

"Yes, but he can't dictate to the Labyrinth who they recognise as the Queen," Jareth snarled. "He aimed to make me king when he sent me to this Kingdom, and fortuitously for him, the Kingship was granted. But unlike other kingdoms and Principalities, the Goblin Kingdom uses magic to choose their liege, not the High Council."

Sarah could see why Jareth had a reputation as a formidable fae. She stood her ground but could see the Pinnsburr's visibly quaking in their boots, as Jareth spoke with dangerous tones and dark looks aplenty.

"It's a shame that your sister failed in her attempt to kidnap my Queen," Jareth continued with sarcasm. "It would have made your situation so much easier without this obstacle in your way. Indeed, if they had succeeded in torturing me into compliance, do you think the Labyrinth would look more favourably upon your daughter?"

"Meffod's interferences are unfortunate," Alutoieru bowed her head.

"So we have an impasse, Queen Sarah," Jareth turned his gaze back to her, ignoring Alutoieru's apologist statement. "I have to accept marriage to Forsythia as dictated by Navas, but they do not want it without the crown of the Goblin Queen. Interesting predicament, as I am sure my father did not remember that the goblins select their royalty."

Sarah set her jaw, ignoring the feelings swarming through her, as she wanted to scream out that her role was temporary, and he knew it. The pendant seemed to vibrate upon her chest in recognition of his words, and despite everything, it was a comforting feeling. She had failed several times to return the medallion to Jareth, and she was starting to wonder if she would be able to. Pointing any of this out seemed to clash with what Jareth required from her right now. Against her urges to throw it all in his face, she kept her opinions to herself.

"Tell me, Forsythia, do you love me?" Jareth turned his sharp eyes on the blonde still kneeling on the cold, hard granite.

"Yes, I do my lord," she offered a brilliant simpering smile. "Of course I do. How could I not? You are beauty and generosity personified."

Sarah resisted the urge to scoff at her flattery by biting the inside of her cheek. Jareth flicked a warning look to Sarah before looking back at the "devoted" fae quailing in front of him.

"Beauty?" he gnashed his teeth. "My burnt hair is not beautiful. And I have scars and impediments that detract from fae virtue, not to mention my existing flaws with my eyes and my teeth. What say you of my defects?"

Forsythia searched his face and gave him a vapid smile. "You are still the most beautiful fae I have ever seen. You are the moon, briefly obscured by a cloud that will soon lift to let your radiance shine through once more."

Sarah expected Jareth to be delighted by this rehearsed flowery speech, but if he was, his features remained unchanged and unmoved.

"Then if that is how you feel, can you accept the proposal I am duty-bound to offer you, without the benefit of being the Queen?"

Forsythia's smile wavered, but she nodded enthusiastically. "Yes, Your Majesty. The mort- that is to say, - the Queen is nothing to me."

"Nothing to you?" Jareth frowned, rising out of his throne. "Come here, girl."

She obeyed, stepping up the dais to be level with Jareth who leant heavily on his cane. Sarah could see the strain that this audience was having on him. Forsythia innocently smiled back at the glowering king. 'Stupid Girl', Sarah thought, unkindly.

"If you were to be my wife, that woman who stands there so stoically while you and your family insult her, will still be Queen," he purred, his hand cupping the fae's cheek in his gloved hand. "She will be _your_ Queen. She will outrank you. Do you still want to tell me to my face, that Hi'live is nothing to you?"

Forsythia had the sense to look mildly intimidated by the menacing look in Jareth's eyes, despite his thumb affectionately stroking her cheek. "I simply meant that I would be your dutiful wife, regardless of who wears the crown," she extolled. "It is you, I love, not your position."

"So if I forfeited my rights to this kingdom, and then handover my entire crown to the Queen Regent, you would still want to marry me and would still profess to love me?" he asked, his hand stilling on her cheek.

Alutoieru gasped, Kweko gaped, but Jareth maintained his look on Forsythia who visibly paled at his implications. Sarah gritted her teeth, as she contemplated him leaving the full rule of this place to her. He couldn't be serious. Still, she remained impassive.

"O-of course," Forsythia stuttered, less confidently than her earlier professions of love.

"Hmmm," he sat down with complacency. "You may return to your prostration."

She obliged, looking for all the world grateful to be out his grasp.

"Your daughter agrees to marry me, despite never becoming Queen," Jareth addressed Kweko and Alutoieru. "Do we have your formal permission to start courting?"

Sarah held her breath, while she watched their faces both redden and their mouths flop open as he spoke.

"Our daughter deserves to be Queen over the mort-," Alutoieru stated, bravely, or perhaps foolishly.

"Go on," Jareth bared pointy teeth. Sconces flared on the walls, and the goblins all froze with bated breath. "Insult my chosen Queen again in my presence."

"She is but a mortal," Kweko offered. "Our daughter is a fae who possesses magic and will do your bidding, as you desire."

Jareth gave a deep, hearty laugh, scaring some of the hapless chickens meandering throughout the throne room. The Pinnsburrs looked rightfully perturbed. "Again, you try to talk to me of my desires, but you missed the mark. I do not require a mirror to reflect and flatter me. I do not yearn to live with just my shadow and echoes for company. I desire an equal that challenges me to be a better version of myself."

Sarah refused to look at Jareth as he spoke, but she could feel his eyes penetrating her through every layer. Instead, she focused on Forsythia's pristine face, watching her fatuous, unwavering smile. Sarah's heart was doing some kind of jig in her chest at his words.

"We moulded our daughter, for you, to suit your tastes," Kweko maintained. Sarah found herself pitying Forsythia, having her entire life and mind fashioned for the sole purpose of marrying a King who did not seem to want her. Sarah knew this now. She could see he had no affection for her and anything he had previously displayed had been a facade. Sarah felt foolish with her earlier reactions to their kiss at the ball. Is that why Jareth had summoned her to witness this interaction?

"If you do not consent to your daughter marrying me, without a Queenship, then I guess this interview is over."

"Your father has sanctioned this union," Alutoieru reiterated. "He promised us she would be Queen."

"It is not a promise he could make," Jareth replied with a sigh. "His oversight is not something I can fix."

Forsythia stood at this moment and quietly headed over into Sarah's direction, still by the main entry.

"Queen Sarah," she lowered her head as she fell to her knees. "I love our King and wish him to be my husband in name and deed. I know he desires it too. I beseech you humbly for your approval."

'Vapid, but crafty,' Sarah thought as Forsythia's blue eyes all but begged her to accede. Sarah hadn't forgotten her cold treatment at the ball. She glanced up to Jareth to see his intense gaze returned, but with no discernable emotion. Jareth probably expects Sarah to give her wholehearted approval. Perhaps, concede her Queenship to Forsythia as well, given the way Sarah has handled her temporary role.

Ten minutes ago, she would have done precisely that, but since this meeting started, things had changed within her. These people were the family of her kidnappers and the people who lead to Jareth's brutal torture. His enemy, was her enemy, despite their differences. She wouldn't wish marriage to this pawn on anybody in similar circumstances. Sarah also didn't want to give Jareth the satisfaction of her running away from her responsibilities.

"Unfortunately, the bestowed Queenship is not something that I could refuse, nor something I can give away," she said with more confidence than she felt. "If you truly love our King, as you declare, then your marriage will be blessed by providence, and you need not seek my approval."

"Surely, you see some sense in the Queenship being a fundamental part of a royal marriage," Alutoieru piped up. Jareth's eyes flicked from Sarah's face to the Lady Pinnsburr and back. He leaned back in his throne, twirling the head of his cane in his hand as he watched the scene play out. Sarah glanced away to stare down Alutoieru.

"Are you implying that perhaps the King should marry me?" Sarah asked nonchalantly.

"Indeed not," Alutoieru gave a violent shake of her head. "But perhaps you could relinquish your crown, for the sake of my daughter."

"As a mortal, I am quite often looked down upon as ignorant by you fair folk," Sarah sniffed. "Yet, I do not need to be told three or four times that the Queenship is not mine to regift."

Sarah left the insult to hang in the air, causing all three Pinnsburrs to stiffen and Jareth to chuckle softly from his throne.

"King Effistod will not be happy with today's outcome," Kweko warned.

"Indubitably," Jareth stood up, and Sarah found satisfaction from seeing the three fae recoil from the menacing King. "What's said is said. Queen Sarah will not be giving up her title."

At this, Jareth threw a pointed look at Sarah before he stood up. "I suggest you now take your leave. You have insulted the Queen Regent, and you have not once addressed Hi'Live by her proper title. I will not agree to any proposal to court Forsythia, and I will not sign any contract."

The grumbling and dejected Pinnsburrs, marched out with haste. Forsythia left more leisurely, swinging her hips and giving Jareth one last alluring pout. Kweko counselled Jareth that King Effistod would not be pleased.

As soon as they were out of the room, Jareth collapsed back into his throne. Sarah hastened to his side to ensure he was well. She may detest him firmly, but she could see his body had taken the toll for his display.

"I fear that the encounter was too much for you," Sarah poured him some water from a nearby cabinet.

"At least I have one loyal supporter in you," he mumbled, accepting the water with a wan smile. "They do say solace comes from the least likely sources."

"I am not your solace," Sarah stated bitterly. "I just hate them more than I hate you."

"And I take comfort in that," he raised his head to look at her. "I can not thank you enough for what you just did."

"I did nothing," Sarah stepped back from the throne, wary of their proximity.

"You showed unity when you could have fed me to the wolves," he answered. "Without you, I would have accepted the proposal and forever be tied to that awful female."

"Your father will retaliate," Sarah warned.

"Assuredly," Jareth rubbed his temples. "I have committed a more comprehensive crime than the one performed against me."

Sarah frowned.

"Resisting a Royal dictate is a greater egregious transgression, than whipping a lesser King," Jareth explained. "Navas is not known for their understanding of fairness, Sarah."

There was no mocking tone of the word, 'fairness,' as Jareth may have served to her in the past. Perhaps he was too weary from the events just past.

"I think I should call for help to get you back to your quarters for some rest," Sarah studied his pallid features.

"Thank you, Sarah," he said again. His eyes met hers with a warmth that sent an inexplicable thrill through her. Sarah swallowed and nodded before she retreated from his slumped body.

* * *

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Credits: Madonna for the Song, I'll Remember. 
> 
> Some of Jareth's lines are inspired by Charlotte Bronte's Jane Eyre: "I would rather you had come and upbraided me with vehemence," (Rochester to Jane after she realises he is married), inspired Jareth's need for Sarah to shout at him, instead of sitting in silence. There are quite a few parallels between Jareth and Rochester, and Jane Eyre very much stands her own and this is similar to how I view Sarah too. I could write a novel about this, but instead, I am helping my good friend, to compile her own Jane Eyre inspired Labyrinth AU. I am very excited about this. 
> 
> "Wounds unhealing," as said by Gilo is a shout out to Savage Garden, in the moving song, "You Can Still Be Free."
> 
> Big shout out to my online family from LFFL for your general shenanigans and sanity. Special thanks to AngelGlass who is ALWAYS there for me. And thank you to everyone who has read, commented, followed, supported in any way. 
> 
> So yay, Jareth is alive and a bit worse for wear. Sarah has some big choices to make coming up, and Jareth has a lot of people displeased with him. Uh oh. 


	18. Chapter Seventeen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content Warning: Dark/horror themes present after the asterisks. 

CHAPTER 17

Sarah was still Queen Regent despite the King's return. Any attempt to remove her medallion had proved futile. Any attempt to discuss her plan to leave had fallen on deaf ears; or rather no ears. Since the Forsythia interlude, the King had retreated to his room to rest and recover. Sevlydi would stalk off every time he saw her. Sarah resumed her task of managing goblins from the Throne Room.

It had been two days. There had been no retaliation from the rejected proposal, and still no word about Sevlydi's concerns related to Rica. He was still obviously on edge regarding that matter, but Navas remained tight-lipped. All Sarah knew was that Rica was still safe in hiding.

Sarah's current task was trying to track down the goblin that had betrayed both Sarah and Jareth to the Pinnsburrs. She hadn't had much luck with her process of elimination. The ones that she saw most frequently, such as ChipChop, Cookie, Heft, Grygiel and Cricket, had been eliminated from suspicion. She still had around thirty goblins on the suspect list. It was draining work without access to any magic, as she had to rely on others to detect the truth when she interviewed each candidate. It had been a particularly trying day as Glib had resisted magical interrogation. Naturally, this had shot him to the top of her suspect list.

Sarah groaned as another headache, threatened to turn her brain into mush. Her father had been a lawyer and would comprehend how to gather evidence against Sarah's main potential perpetrator. The memory of her dad engulfed her with emotions; her insides were a choppy, storm-tossed sea.

"You are commendable," Jareth's baritone interrupted her self-pity. The unusually quiet and empty throne room, reverberated with his distinct voice. "I acknowledge my absence and leaving you yet again to fend for yourself."

Sarah shrugged, continuing to massage her temples as if he wasn't present. His hair was longer now, growing faster than her human hair. His last remaining scar was fading, but still visible.

"We have some unfinished business to address," he strode forward, still relying heavily on his cane. "Sevlydi will meet us in the library to discuss your future."

"Surely there isn't that much to discuss," Sarah said archly. "I return your medallion, and I go home."

Jareth gave her a sharp look. "You know very well that you are Queen-select and you can not just drop it and run away."

Sarah sighed and tilted her head away from the infuriating King. She had performed her fair share of 'running away' since coming back Underground. For the past few weeks, she had been aching to run away. Jareth was correct.

"But before we go, I would like to address the issue of the kiss you believed I shared with Forsythia," Jareth gripped his cane harder as he spoke.

"Issue?" Sarah scoffed. "What possible issue could there be?"

"You tell me," Jareth gestured with his hand. "I do not know how you got the impression that I kissed her, but we have never kissed one another."

Sarah inspected her fingers nails as she stifled a yawn.

"You met her," he continued, less calm than he had been. "Do you think I could be interested in such a simple, dull creature? Do you think me that shallow?"

Sarah glanced up at his almost outburst. "I care not."

With that, she unhooked her leg from the arm of the throne and strode past him. "You greatly overestimate how much I care," she spat as she approached him, but before she could go any further, his hand shot out and grabbed her wrist.

"I have always _under_ estimated you," his eyes were narrow, his lips thin and his nostrils flaring. "Do not lie to me about how much you care, Sarah. You have the most remarkable capacity to care I have ever encountered. Do not undervalue yourself."

Sarah ripped her arm back from him. "Little hypocritical to lecture me about lying, don't you think?"

The sconces flared on the wall, giving Sarah the impression that even the shadows were trying to hide from Jareth's mood swing. Except, when she looked into his face, he was smiling; not a cruel, malicious smile, but a warm one that touched his eyes.

"Just so," he said softly. "I have been a hypocritical fool. But how long are you going to stay angry at me over something you supposedly don't care about?"

Sarah opened her mouth to retaliate, but she realised she had no clue what to say. Her mouth snapped shut, and she scowled at Jareth's leery face.

"You cared about Terry," Jareth said this with gentleness and with no trace of accusation. "It is my fault. My responsibility that you lost a friend. You can be mad at me for as long as you want and I accept that. I admire you for your sense of justice, despite how I may have handled _that_ in the past. But any accusations levelled at my door in regards to Forsythia, are unfounded. I will not tolerate any anger you have where she is concerned. She is neither of our concerns, Sarah."

Sarah stood immobile, and her eyes downcast. His words seemed sincere and poignant.

Taking a deep breath, she finally replied. "You didn't have to prove how sorry you were by risking your life."

Jareth's brows shot up and the deep frown lines smoothed out. "Sarah, if they had killed you or harmed you in any way, my life would have been forfeit. I would have rained down hellfire to save you. I had no choice but to sacrifice myself for you, and I would do it again."

"Hopefully you won't _have_ to do it again," Sarah muttered.

"I won't," Jareth smirked. "You wanted to kill me yourself, remember?"

"I haven't really had time to organise your murder," Sarah shrugged. "I can't turn back time as you can."

"Pity," he grinned.

"I will try to fit in a spot of regicide after dinner," she said, feigning indifference.

"I will look forward to it," Jareth leaned forward. "I would trust no one but you with my death."

"You put a lot of faith in my abilities," Sarah sniffed.

His gloved hand reached up to push hair behind her ear. "I would move those pesky stars for you, even if you never deigned to look upon me for the rest of eternity. Who else but you would I entrust with my death?"

That statement came a little out of the left-field, but it had the result of instantly drying her mouth. She licked her lips and swallowed the lump that was forming in her throat.

"I don't approve of what you did, leading me on and pretending to be my friend," Sarah responded, glaring at him. She felt his hand on her cheek, much like he had done with Forsythia the day before, but his eyes reflected warmth, not repulsion.

"I changed my appearance and my job title," Jareth shook his head slightly. "I never fabricated being your friend. Yes, it was under false pretences, but it was as genuine as it could be under those circumstances. I know you do not believe it of me, but I -"

"It is exactly those reasons that made it impossible to be genuine friendship," Sarah stepped out of his reach. "You are a magical creature who has cheated me more than once. I told you that you have no power over me, but I could never dream of deceiving you as you have me."

"No, but you could dream of murdering me," he grinned. "Is that not worse?"

"Eh," Sarah shrugged again. "Depends if that murder is for the greater good. The world could bear the deprivation of your ego."

"You wound me," he placed his hand up to his forehead in imitation of a swoon.

"How clumsy of me," Sarah paraphrased, and modified a quote from the Sound of Music. "I meant to kill you."

"You will have to try harder than that," Jareth indicated the scars of the previous attempt on his life.

"Do you think of me capable of such horrific torture, or that I would wish it on you?" Sarah, puzzled, took a step away from him. It was one thing to joke about it, and quite another for him to bring reality crashing down on her.

"No, because your heart is pure," he tapped his cane on the ground. "Only someone noble and unsullied could have taken on my Labyrinth and conquered it. Only someone as true as you could have trusted me as Terry and not seen through my glamour. I took advantage of your capacity to love, and I am no better than any other fae, having stolen trust from you."

Sarah bit her lip, as Jareth said all the right words. She felt her defences melting under his scrutiny. The King's usual arrogance had taken a sudden leave of absence, and Sarah wondered if he was making himself vulnerable to her as repentance.

"I am not pure," Sarah countered, weakly. She certainly wasn't chaste or innocent, and she doubted Jareth believed that either.

"You are pure of heart, in the sense that you harbour so much love for your friends and family," Jareth rubbed his forehead with his free hand. "Something we fae are not capable of, but I came to envy. Envy because I wanted you to teach me how to love, and I didn't think you would ever see past my crown. No-one has ever seen past my sovereignty before. But you have taught me that there are no shortcuts to love and that you can not have love without trust."

"Why fight your nature, though?" Sarah still did not understand. "You are fae, so it makes sense to act accordingly."

"I am also part human, and that part of me wants companionship, though you are right," he sighed. "It is a recent development that I wanted more from a wife than a bed warmer and an heir producer. Fae are slow to change, but like that song you were singing the other day, 'I learned to let go of the illusion that we can possess.'"

This man so far removed from the cold, calculating Jareth Sarah knew. The Jareth who sent the cleaners after her; Jareth who mocked her when they first came back in contact at the Twilight Festival. Images of seeing him at the Harvest Parade seeped through; him kneeling in front of the children, doing tricks for their amusement. Him sensuously dancing with the blonde and dark-haired fae women at the fire festival, with his eyes on her. She felt desire pool from that particular memory. Her eyes flicked up to see Jareth still studying her while she tried to marry these two images of him into one. Maybe it wasn't two sides of him, but she was getting quite tired of all this analysing and self-doubt.

Jareth swept his ragged fringe out his face as he held her in his scrutiny. Sarah recalled ranting to 'Terry' about her plans for Jareth's hair when he had first accosted her. If she was going to try and get back on equal footing, she was going to attempt to put Jareth in his place.

"Do you recall my plans for your hair, Your Majesty?" Sarah said with a sly smile curling the corners of her lips. She was going to venture to sway the conversation into a more familiar and comfortable territory - snark, not feelings. "After our first meeting, and I vented to Ter- er- you."

"Yes," his eyes narrowed, and his hand went to his hip.

"Egg mayonnaise is quite easy to make, and bog water is in plentiful supply," Sarah continued with a toothy grin.

"Sa-rah," he drawled with a note of warning.

"Just be warned, Goblin King," Sarah bit her lip in amusement. "I haven't forgotten."

"I have not forgotten that you also referred to my hair as a bird's nest blown in the wind and caught in a spider's web," he growled. "I think if you touched my hair, you would find it softer than the wing of an owl, even in its present condition."

Sarah smirked. "Until the restoration of your hair to its abundant Rod Stewart magnitude, you are safe from the 'Sarah Williams Hair Special.' I am not that heartless."

Jareth scowled. "I additionally remember when you informed me that you wouldn't marry me even if I am the only person left in the universe, so I suppose you are a woman of your word in all things."

Sarah sobered up. "I am."

"We have much to discuss, and it will take time," he interrupted the blossoming silence Sarah could taste in the air. "Let us go have our meeting, as we all have decisions to make quite urgently."

* * *

Once the three of them were seated around a table in the library, with refreshments aplenty, Jareth started the meeting.

"We find ourselves in an unlikely, and unusual position," he declared. "We have two reigning monarchs, and we need to decide how we proceed."

"Sarah, as we have discussed before, you were chosen by the Labyrinth to be the Queen Regent, upon discovery and contact with Jareth's medallion," Sevlydi explained. "You have expressed a wish to relinquish your crown once Jareth became strong enough to return to his obligations. That time has now come."

"So we now present you with five choices," Jareth shuffled some papers in front of him. "I will select each option at random before I present it to you, and we can discuss them all together or separately. However, you wish to do it."

"So option one?" Sarah prompted, clasping her hands together in front of her on the table.

"Option one is -," Jareth pulled one sheet of parchment out of his pile and read it out. "Jareth, King of the Goblins and Lord of the Labyrinth, turns back time and returns Queen Sarah to the moment the Pinnsburrs kidnapped her."

"You can do that?" Sarah perked up.

"No, he can't," Sevlydi scowled. "Not without causing his death as he burns up many stars to reverse so much time."

"Oh," Sarah frowned. Why was it presented as an option if it wasn't possible then?

"I would do it if that is what you wanted," Jareth placed the paper down in a new pile and pulled up a second.

Sarah just frowned. As desirable as that was, she couldn't ask him to sacrifice his life for hers again.

"Your second option is remaining in the castle and reigning as Queen in your own right," Jareth paraphrased from his scroll. "We would both be free to marry consorts, and we would share power and duties."

Sarah nodded, and Jareth continued. "The third option is similar, but we build you a manor house or an auxiliary castle in the Kingdom, so you have your independence."

Jareth placed those two papers on their new pile. "The fourth option is that you return to Cloverfield after we figure out how to relieve you of your Queenship."

Sarah clenched her hands tighter. Jareth stared down at the fifth and final parchment without a word. Sevlydi stirred his tea while giving his brother an ominous look. The choices were broad, and she would need time to consider them all.

"And the fifth one?" Sevlydi raised his brows. Of course, there was one more. Sarah glanced curiously at Jareth, who wore a grim expression.

"Is there any point mentioning this one?" he pointed to the last piece of paper in front of him.

"Yes," Sevlydi asserted. "Tell her, or I will."

"Sarah," Jareth addressed her. "This last option will be unfavourable to you, but my brother insists that I share it anyway."

Sarah nodded. "I'd like to know."

Jareth curled his lips and exhaled. "The fifth option is that you - that we marry and solidify our joint rule and magic over the land."

Jareth's eyes closed as he passed her all five papers, and Sevlydi leaned back in his chair with a satisfied grin.

"These are the outlines of the options and our joint expectations," Jareth told her. "They form a contract, that once agreed to, becomes binding. You may consult who you choose and contribute any changes or compromises you deem necessary."

"It is irrevocable once you select your choice," Sevlydi warned. "If you choose to live in Cloverfield, you can't lament your choice not to marry Jareth."

"Sevlydi," Jareth growled in a stern, warning tone.

"Do I have time?" Sarah ignored their heated stares.

"If you must," Sevlydi tapped his fingers against the table. "But not much of it."

"I won't be even contemplating one of the options," Sarah continued. "May I have it removed?"

Jareth stiffened, his eyes enlarged, and his mouth drew thinner. Sevlydi narrowed his eyes, but he still assured her she could cut a "choice" if she wished.

Sarah glanced down at her papers, selecting the one that she wanted to remove. Two out of the five options gave her freedom from the Labyrinth. She was a little surprised Jareth of all people, would offer several options that would let her claim her agency.

"I will not be claiming this option," Sarah held it out to Jareth opposite her. He didn't take his eyes off her, as he cautiously took the proffered paper. Eventually, he glanced down, and Sarah could see the relief flow off his stiff, lined face.

"You do not wish to return to your life as it was?" Jareth confirmed.

"I do not," Sarah smiled wanly. "Our experiences change us, and we shouldn't live in the past."

Besides, Sarah couldn't live with herself, knowing that her villain sacrificed his life to reset hers. Although she strongly suspected he knew that and would never expect her to select that option. Trying to find redemption only took an arrogant fae so far.

Jareth nodded. "Are there any others you wish to discard right now?"

Sarah knew he suspected that she would want to remove the marriage option, but something stilled her. She watched as Jareth dissolved the parchment containing the prospect to reverse the years. She swallowed, knowing that there was no going back. ' _The way forward was sometimes the way back,'_ was wrong in this case.

"No," she gathered up her remaining options. "I wonder if I may talk privately to Prince Sevlydi though?"

Jareth's brows once more drew tighter together. Sevlydi looked surprised.

"As you wish," Jareth hobbled off with his cane almost instantly. Sevlydi was studying her with intent.

"You didn't wish to remove the marriage option," he said when they were alone. "I am shocked."

Sarah sighed. She seemed to be sighing a lot today. "I am curious. Jareth has not mentioned the pearl theory to my face. You're the only one who has mentioned it. He hasn't even asked for it back after he gave it to me."

Sarah took the pearl out of her pocket and placed in on the table in front of her.

"I want you to tell me everything," she ordered.

"I can tell you some things, but not all things," he said, perusing the pearl. "I can't tell you all of what Briyash told me, because to do so would tempt fate."

"What does that mean?"

"It means that if I tell you too much, it will corrupt your destiny," he bit his thumb. "That's the only way I can explain it."

Sarah furrowed her brow. She had heard of self-fulfilling prophecies, but when it came to magic, the rules complicated everything.

"I shouldn't have told you anything about the pearl, to begin with," Sevlydi sipped his tea.

"Then, why did you?"

"Our design is not to love," he went on. "It is a weakness that can not be abided. It makes us do reckless, idiotic things. My love for Rica made me careless. My father's love for our mother, made him marry someone society scorned him for, lumbering him with children that he - that he despises. I told you about the pearl to goad Jareth when he was pretending to be Terry. I needed him to stop, so you wouldn't be as hurt as you are now. I should never have mentioned it."

"It wouldn't have mattered _when_ he stopped pretending," Sarah said. "The result is the same."

"When I first met Rica, I denied myself for a very long time," Sevlydi settled back into his chair. "I abided by the boorish rule that I could not have an affair with a male because I am royal. The more I got to know him, the harder it became to deny myself. We knew the risks going in, but we were in love. Can you believe we were so devoted to each other? Two members of a passionless species, wired to see love as a weakness, enthralled with each other. What were the chances? We decided that something so rare, so beautiful was worth the risk. Then you learn of a way to ensure that you can be together forever, legally. Then you do what you have to."

"How can you be together legally?"

Sevlydi sighed and tossed his hands into the air. "If the fates allow, Sarah."

He steepled his fingers and lapsed into silence.

"Why does Jareth avoid mentioning the pearl with me?"

"He wants you to choose him," Sevlydi peered over the top of his hands. "He is quite the romantic when in the mood and has been smitten with you for quite some time. He believes in the pearl theory, more than I did, in the beginning. He is aware of your human sensibilities, and he wants you to choose him for true reasons. He also doesn't want you to doubt that he is marrying you for love, and not destiny."

"You think he truly loves me?" Sarah asked dubiously.

"You're asking me if my selfish, arrogant brother who nearly died for your sake, loves you?" Sevlydi asked with heavy sarcasm, inclining his head, scornfully. "He goes against his nature daily, and you still doubt his intent?"

"I am asking if you think he does."

"I have no doubt," Sevlydi shifted in his seat, leaning forward, to stare at the pearl. "My brother has only cared about himself, like any fae. But even the Pinnsburrs knew you were his weakness when they captured you. Yet, you still refuse to see it."

"People who love each other don't pretend to be who they are not," Sarah growled. "What he did was tantamount to spying. It was deceitful and an invasion of privacy."

"By human standards," Sevlydi leant back. "He is not human. From my understanding of my brother, he is now trying incredibly hard to live up to your human expectations. I hope one day, he will exceed them. And I hope one day you will be his strength as well as his weakness."

"For your selfish reasons, I suppose?"

"Naturally," he grinned. "But also because despite my misgivings, you will be very beneficial for Jareth. Thank you for keeping the marriage option open for him."

"It would help to have a few more ideas on how that 'option' would be advantageous for the Labyrinth and - and - me."

Sevlydi rubbed his chin. "Aside from my wishes to see my brother happy, there are plenty of reasons. You care about the Labyrinth, so you will not be used as a puppet by my half brother and sister, who seek to control it. It will secure your position as the Goblin Queen, offering more protection to yourself, your role and the Kingdom. You will have additional advantages than if you conceded some leadership to the Queen consort, and likewise, Jareth will preserve his half of the rights, if you do not obtain a husband. Imagine having to share control of the Kingdom in four ways, instead of just two. It becomes more complex and nuanced."

"Or it may allow a wider scope of experience and voice and background to the mix," Sarah countered.

"Or you end up at war, splitting the kingdom in two because you can't agree or the consorts want more power, and you won't yield to them."

"Yeah, but -," Sarah started.

"Or you finally admit you love Jareth, and then you create a scandal when your husband - your consort, finds you in Jareth's bed," Sevlydi gave a toothy smile. "As far as I know, the Goblin Kingdom is the only one that citizens select the monarchs, so typically the Queen and King are almost always married."

Sarah sighed. "Surely, if I have been 'chosen' to be Queen there shouldn't be any dire need for me to marry Jareth," Sarah reasoned.

"Aside from the imminent threat of Navas seeking to control the Labyrinth and Jareth," he reminded her. "They will leech all the power they can from here, by planting a puppet-wife on the throne."

"How do you know that?"

"They have never been interested in the Goblin Kingdom until they suddenly ran out of power reserves in Haddoyne," Sevlydi sipped his tea. "I have my own sources in the form of spies, so I know the Mountains of Haddoyne have practically been sucked dry. They can't wage war against their own Greater Kingdom, and they have no hope of controlling Jareth. But if he marries he shares the power, they gain access to the fount, utilising the control they have over his wife and Queen. The same if you take a husband. At least you two together know that you have the best interests of the Kingdom at heart, and you have no ulterior motive."

"So if I marry Jareth, they can't control me, they can't gain access," Sarah paraphrased back to him.

"Just so," Sevlydi flicked some crumbs off his shirt. "But there are also some personal reasons for you to consider."

"Such as?"

"Aside from his protection, Jareth will offer you faithfulness, and he is not a violent man. He would never hit you, and he would only take what you offer. And though you claim not to love him, he adores you; your will is his command. He would see to your every comfort and happiness."

Sarah twirled her teaspoon in her cup as she listened. They were incontrovertible positives to getting married to Jareth, though Mark had once upon a time ticked those boxes too.

"He tried to get me to marry him when I was barely fifteen," Sarah pointed out.

"You were too old to turn, too young to keep," Sevlydi countered. "He would not have married you that young. Whatever he may say, you were right to reject him. At that time."

"I have a lot to think about," Sarah slumped back into her chair. "Do you think you could summon Jareth back?"

"Why don't you try?" he smirked. "Use your pearl."

Sarah picked it up. "Jareth?"

Within seconds Jareth appeared before them, his cloak billowing around him in an invisible wind, his face stern, his eyes guarded.

"Your brother has helped me eliminate another option," Sarah addressed Jareth. His eyes flicked to Sevlydi, whose eyes widened with surprise.

"I see," Jareth's tone gave nothing away, but Sarah saw his grip on his cane tighten.

"Once upon a time, I would have jumped at the opportunity to escape back to a simple life back with the Sprigget's," Sarah shuffled the papers until that option was on top. She had given it a cursory read but knew that she couldn't accept this one to abandon the Labyrinth. "Thank you for considering options that solely benefit me and no-one else, but it is for that exact reason I can not accept the opportunity to return to Cloverfield Cottage."

She passed the corresponding document to Jareth, who had a look that Sarah interpreted as pride. Was he proud of her? Triumphant that she had refused two recourses that were to his detriment, but her sole advantage? The two options that offered her freedom were now no longer viable. She hoped she was making a choice she wouldn't live to regret.

Sarah's selections were to marry him, or not to marry him but live in either his castle or a castle of her own. She couldn't possibly narrow it down any further right now. Though her rejection of the Cloverfield Proposal was contrary to everything she had been saying and feeling since she learnt about Terry, she just could not risk the lives of an entire Kingdom if she didn't remain Queen. Since taking the crown, she had become quite protective of the maze and its inhabitants.

"Are you sure?" Jareth asked, stroking the paper in gloved hands, as he retook his seat.

"Did you not once suggest that my initial Labyrinth run was to teach me to be less spoilt, selfish, and more responsible?"

"No one expects you to sacrifice your happiness for the sake of me - my - our Kingdom," Jareth said softly.

"How can I be happy knowing that by my choice, I will have allowed my friends to die?" Sarah asked, her voice wobbling. "As tempting as those choices were, I can not accept either of them."

"If I could have prevented you from making any choice, please believe that I would have," he dissolved the parchment. "I'd have you happy above all things."

"You have sacrificed your life once for me, Jareth," he perked up at the mention of his name. "I can hardly expect you to do it a second time, and be content with that choice. Besides, for some inexplicable reason, the goblins have chosen me to be their Queen, and I can't let them down."

"How very self-sacrificing of you," Jareth said, with heavy sarcasm, before he caught a scornful look from Sevlydi. "You have grown up a lot since your first run."

Sarah laughed. "At least one of us has."

Jareth's smile was slight, but his eyes had become less guarded as she spoke. "We will give you time to make your choice. We know you will make the right one in the end, and we will both support you with whatever that decision is."

"Look at that," Sevlydi pushed his chair back to stand. "You two had an adult conversation almost without bickering. There is hope for you yet."

And with that, he disappeared from the spot, leaving Sarah alone with Jareth again. Sarah suspected they knew her decision would be a foregone conclusion, and that is why they would support it. Especially now she had eliminated the two options that would have made her the happiest.

"Will you dine with Sevlydi and me, or would you prefer to eat alone, tonight?" Jareth asked after a moment's peace. Sarah had been eating alone in the dining room for luncheon and dinner, and in her room for breakfast. Dining accompanied was not an overly appealing prospect.

"I think I would like to dine alone, to think about my options," Sarah replied.

Jareth nodded his head once, opening his mouth to say something else when Sarah stood up and excused herself.

* * *

Jareth watched Sarah leave, with mixed feelings. The shock of her having destroyed the two choices that would be more difficult for _him_ , but most propitious to _her_ , still hadn't faded. When Sarah quickly got rid of the 'return home' option, he had been surprised. Borne not of that choice, came his shock, but how quickly she had relinquished that possibility. He had half expected her to torture him with indecision. Sarah's decisiveness and her ability to narrow it down to the least three self-serving options was cause for celebration.

On the other hand, Sarah hadn't removed the option to marry him, and while that should have brought him joy, he selfishly wanted her to choose to marry him for the right reasons. How his opinion had changed, the longer he spent with Sarah. He loved her more and more each day.

The fact that she even spoke to him was an improvement from the recent days where she disregarded him entirely as he lay recuperating in his bed. Sarah didn't want him to die, and she wanted to be Queen; both something to bring him delight. Any of the three remaining options would be in his favour, though he would not get his hopes up that she would choose to marry him. He cursed his stupidity that he lost the opportunity to woo her properly.

In his head, Jareth had imagined sweeping her off her feet with a romantic proposal, after a smooth, steady courtship. He would impress her with his magic in one of his private, floating gardens. Sarah, would of course accept and they would make love in the secluded terrace, lit by fairy lights, the moon and the stars. He would treat her to her favourite Aboveground foods, and read to her from her most treasured books, while she was wrapped naked around him. Of course, none of that was possible now. If she chose either of the options _not_ to marry him, then it was binding. He would never be able to marry her, to honour the contract she had signed. Fae contracts were tricky like that. If she chose to marry him, then there would be little need to propose formally. Sarah would sign the deal, and that would be that.

Later, when he was lying on his bed, Jareth was still thinking of Sarah and despising everything fae from contracts to fae marriage rules, to the fae penchant for deceit. Sarah had been right; his desire to get her to love him without his mantle was selfish and cruel. He was so used to getting his way, for his entire life, he didn't think this would be any different. He wanted her, by rights he should have her. Sarah's conviction may have been great, but Jareth should have yielded, or at least flexed before they achieved this mess. He had very nearly risked sacrificing his happiness just so he could win.

Sarah didn't even get a proper coronation. Though, that is something he could arrange now she had agreed to remain the Queen. A coronation to make it formal in the eyes of the court, not just in Jareth's eyes and those of his citizens. Or _their_ goblins, as they were under both of their jurisdiction now. It would serve to promote her from Regent to Regnant.

Sarah would learn in her documents, that it was typical for a reigning sovereign to outrank their spouse. In this situation, Jareth would still rank over Sarah if they married, and she could never govern in her own right. The role of the Goblin Queen by marriage alone, still held more power than a mere honorary Queen title in the form of a consort, as he had offered Forsythia. Despite this, Jareth would grant Sarah the title of regnant to ensure she was forever equal to him. He would have her ruling in her own right, or not at all.

He was just wondering how she would take to being his equal against the custom, when he heard an almighty scream, that he knew instinctively was Sarah. Without a second thought, he transported himself to outside her chambers. He didn't wait for a response to his knock before he barged in. Sarah was still in bed, tossing and turning.

Sarah writhed in her bed, tangling the sheets around her body. A light sheen of sweat glistened on her skin, her eyes wide open, but unseeing.

* * *

********************

Black mists lay like a heaving blanket across the ground, curling around the blackened trunks of trees, once strong warriors, now charred stumps, left to decay in the dirt. Bodies of unknown fallen soldiers, lay in pieces, scattered across the rotten path. Pungent smoke rose from their infected corpses; blood and entrails dripped from the walls.

The stone courtyard, at the end of the once tree-lined avenue, lay broken and crumbled like ceramic dropped from a height, littered with earthquake-induced ravines. Odious, grey liquid, fetid and foul, bubbled and oozed out of the open maw of each canyon, like blood and pus out of a fresh wound. But everything else was aflame or devoured by the inky, pitch mist, leaving the courtyard and shattered walls to resemble a tableau, a grim nativity scene, surrounded by emptiness.

It was the centre of the scene that drew the eye. A form could be seen with their back towards the entryway, standing perfectly still, as all around them, the world fell down. A ghostly wind whipped their hair, but there was no other movement.

It was towards this location that Sarah had been heading. Past the ruined Labyrinth, past all the dead goblins, until she reached this point. Bile rose with every step. How she got here was a mystery, but more mysterious still was the lack of dream quality. Every sense was sharp, every image vivid, and she had full control over her body and senses. Pinching herself caused pain, Sarah's terror increased manifold at the realness around her.

Jareth endured his position, his tattered cloak stirring in the wind as Sarah studied his figure. She anticipated he would turn around upon her approach, as her feet moved across the slimy stones towards him.

"Jareth?" she called, but there was no response. She was not very far behind him now. The damage he had sustained was apparent in his clothing, the closer she got. Blood, gore, dirt, holes and rips all telling the story of his plight. What had happened here? Tears sprung to her eyes as she glanced to the edge of the yard to see Ludo, Sir Didymus and Hoggle in a heap, clearly as dead as every other creature she had seen thus far. As she cried, the mists swelled to absorb their bodies, taking them from her sight forever.

Sarah brought her attention back to Jareth, still motionless. She edged around the outside of him, wary of what she would discover. Jareth had to be alive, he was standing tall, and not slumped on the ground like the rest of the corpses. Perhaps he was temporarily deaf from the magical explosion that had occurred. Her hand reached out to touch his elbow, but there was no reaction.

Blood. Blood covered her hand. It had a green, metallic sheen to it, signifying either magic or poison, or both. She swallowed her trepidation, completing the circle around him. Nothing prepared her for what she saw.

Jareth had no eyes. The black mist seeped out of his empty eyes sockets. His mouth sagged wide; slack and entirely devoid of any teeth. His nose was also just a hole with the black mist curling out of the orifice. His body, while clothed from behind, was stark naked from this perspective. The grey fluid flowed over Jareth's skin, burning and rotting it as it travelled. Stips of skin hung off him, exposing bone and blood. He was only distinguishable by his hair and his medallion still hanging around his throat.

Sarah screamed. As she cried out, she saw Jareth's head separate from the rest of his body, crashing down into a puddle of the oozy liquid, instantly dissolving the remaining skin.

Sarah screamed again; louder, sharper, and with everything she had inside her. The enchantment holding up Jareth's body yielded to the oily vapour, and it crumpled into the ravine behind him.

Sarah watched aghast. She spun around to see the black mist swarming towards her. She stepped back as far as she could, stopping before a chasm swallowed her whole. Her heart was in her throat as the haze grew more nebulous. She screamed again, and the next sensation was one of falling. Had she stepped back into the canyon behind her?

She became aware of arms around her waist and a heat that was not her own.

"You are safe," came Jareth's voice. Having just seen his mutilated body fall into a ravine, her overwhelmed nerves frayed to its last remaining thread. Hot tears flowed freely down her cheeks as she tried to fight his grip. "Sarah, you are not going to come to any harm with me. Peace, Precious."

It had been a while since Jareth had called her that. Her tears persisted, but her choking sobs eased. They kept falling, with his arms around her in pitch darkness. Slowly the falling sensation eased and slowed.

And instead of hitting the ground, Sarah woke up sweaty and panting in bed, twisted in her sheets, and hyperaware of the pair of arms wrapped around her waist. She had been dreaming. It hadn't been real. She rolled over to see Jareth's eyes fixed on her. Sarah was too troubled from her nightmare to rebuke him for being in her bed; or for touching her.

"You are safe," Jareth repeated. Sarah's hand went up to her face to wipe her tears, but something shiny and green caught her eye. Her palm was covered in blood, green and glittery like in her dream. She bolted upright out of his arms, fixated on her hand.

"I have blood on my hand," she exclaimed. "How can I have blood on my hands from a dream?"

"Your magic," Jareth was still lying in her bed, watching her. "Go wash your hands thoroughly, then I will explain it to you."

Sarah obediently hastened into her bathroom. Her face in the mirror was gaunt with dark shadows under her eyes. Soot and grime etched into every line on her face. She turned her attention to watching the blood wash down the drain, followed by splashing water on her face. She raked clean fingers through her hair, shaking out the ash and debris from her dream that was not a dream. She was about to rejoin Jareth when sudden awareness flooded through her. Sarah grabbed a robe from the privacy screen, slipping it on before exiting the bathroom. She had only been wearing a thin, silk nightdress when he had been holding her in her bed.

Jareth looked up from where he still lay on her bed. His eyes took in her new attire, as he patted the bed beside him.

"You weren't dreaming."

"What?" Sarah knitted her brows as she warily sat next to him on her bed, her back to his body, she turned slightly to face him.

"Your magic has manifested in "walking," he explained. "I could taste it as soon as I entered your dreamlike state, though I could not view what you were seeing."

"Walking?"

"In this specific instance, you were future walking," Jareth continued, swinging his legs off the side of her bed, to sit next to her. "Your magic is connected to specific criteria as I have once described. Being Queen has helped release some of it, and it seems to currently be taking the form of 'walking'. Dream walking, past walking, and future walking, all mean that you are there and it is happening to you, but you're only there in spirit. Your body remains in the present. However, if you do not grasp how to return, then you can cause yourself serious harm, even death."

Sarah could see the image of Jareth's dead body burnt on her retinas. She felt faint as she realised he would die in that awful manner.

"That is why I dived into your "walking" state when I heard you scream. I could taste your magic, but you have no control over it. I apologise for the liberties I took to rescue you."

Sarah waved his apologies away. "So what I saw will happen?"

"Not necessarily," Jareth twirled a crystal in his hand. "It is the probable future. It will happen if we make certain decisions that lead to that timeline."

"So I can prevent it?" she implored.

"You?" he frowned. "I would hope the future doesn't just rest on your shoulders alone."

"Yes, but coincidentally, or not, I have a choice to make, and I don't want it to lead to what I saw," Sarah bit her lip, stalling the tears threatening to fall.

"What did you see?"

Sarah vigorously shook her head. "All dead, all dead."

Jareth's frown deepened. "I need to teach you how to escape from them in case you have any more."

"How do I do that?"

Jareth grimaced, but then she saw his sharp canines poking through, revealing an artless smile. "You won't like the answer, I am sure."

Sarah huffed impatiently.

"I need to be with you," Jareth's reply was perfunctory. Sarah waited for more, but he seemed lost in the inspection of his crystal.

Sarah cleared her throat.

"When you sleep," he went on at her prompting. "I need to be with you and make contact with you to show you how to reach your magic so you can leave or avoid walking altogether."

"Of course," Sarah rolled her eyes. "There is one hundred per cent no other way to teach me."

He ran his tongue across the tips of his teeth, shaking his head. "Theory learnt from books will only get you so far in your training. Only one option is open to you for the practical aspect."

"Why do I not believe you?"

"Well, I can always get Sevlydi to teach you," he laughed. "There are other options with regards to _who_ teaches you, but each one involves a rather, hmmm, shall we say hands-on approach."

Sarah wasn't surprised at all that his remorseful demeanour hadn't lasted long at all. She grunted and pulled her robe tighter. "And you swear that you will be beyond reproach while I sleep?"

Jareth's face darkened. "Sarah, if I ever have the pleasure of taking you, as you suggest, it will be with your consent, conscious and willing; so very willing."

The suggestiveness that dripped off every sultry syllable was enough to have Sarah's desire on full alert. Jareth's voice had always been secretly alluring for her. She didn't know how she was going to handle having him in her bed, though he insisted it was necessary.

Sarah ground her teeth in disbelief of the question she was planning to ask. "So your bed or mine?"

* * *

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Credit to Madonna for the line 'I learned to let go of the illusion that we can possess.' (From 'I'll Remember', mentioned in the previous chapter).
> 
> Sarah takes inspiration for one of her comebacks from this exchange in the Sound of Music:
> 
> Captain von Trapp: If the Nazis take over Austria, I have no doubt, Herr Zeller, that you will be the entire trumpet section.
> 
> Herr Zeller: You flatter me, Captain.
> 
> Captain von Trapp: Oh, how clumsy of me - I meant to accuse you.
> 
> "He had very nearly risked sacrificing his happiness just so he could win," is modified from a lyric by Savage Garden from the song Tears of Pearls (the same song this story draws its title from). "Sacrifice my happiness just so I can win."
> 
> I also drew from the Novelisation of the Labyrinth (Too old to turn, too young to keep). 
> 
> I think that is all the references needing credit. If there is anything else I have missed, standard disclaimers apply. 
> 
> Thank you to everyone who has followed and reviewed. :D We are out of lockdown and back to semi-normality again so I am getting time to myself again. 
> 
> Warning: There is smut on the horizon, so the rating may change in the next chapter or two ;) 


	19. Chapter Eighteen

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

The day passed as slowly as Sarah suspected it would. She was fatigued from her 'future walking,' and also apprehensive about having to share a bed with the King. While she was slowly starting to trust the king, she was less trustful of herself.

She was currently in his library with some books Jareth had recommended for her type of magical abilities, and some that she had found independently. All of them mentioned that close contact was necessary to teach this kind of magic; to control entry and exit. Sarah briefly pondered who had taught him, until a stab of jealousy punctured her core, forcing her to stop musing on that concept.

It was just magical training and not at all an invitation for intimacy; though neither one of them could deny the high levels of closeness involved in the exercise. Sarah did not want to be in his room for the night, as it would lead to excessive gossip if exposed, but having Jareth in her bed-chamber felt like an invasion of her privacy. Jareth had left the choice up to her.

Sarah had also used the time alone to read over the three choices they had offered her. She was no closer to making a decision. But at least she now only had three not five options. She only allowed a small amount of regret over the two she had refused.

Sarah spent breakfast and lunch in her own company, but dinner she ventured to spend with the two brothers.

"Had any more thought upon your choice?" Sevlydi asked as soon as they were all sitting. Sarah shoved a mouthful of lamb in her mouth, gravy dripping down her chin. She was hungry after all her research and meagre lunch. She graced him with one flash of her green eyes before hungrily shovelling more food into her mouth.

"Hungry?" Jareth asked with his trademark smirk and a raised eyebrow.

"Ravenous," Sarah said between mouthfuls.

"Have you been up to some strenuous activities today?" Sevlydi said, looking between the King and Queen.

"Because I would remind you that only one out of the three choices you have left, will allow you to continue any fornication without scandal," Sevlydi continued in all seriousness.

Jareth canted his head and grinned wider. Sarah nearly choked on her mouthful. Did he think they were sleeping together just like that? Surely he could understand her desire to have some self-worth, though the lines between quiet dignity and overt pride were getting more and more blurred. As were the lines between loathing and desire, she thought sourly, as she cast a look over Jareth lounging back in his chair as if he owned the place, because of course, he did.

"Really?" Sarah asked in a tone that would have made Karen proud. "At the dinner table of all places?"

"Even by human standards you are quite the prude," Sevlydi shrugged. Sarah wasn't a prig. She had quite a healthy sexual appetite, but when it came to Jareth, though the desire was there, she didn't want to give him that satisfaction. Pride put up barriers to _even_ her own gratification. She ripped off a chunk of bread with her teeth, as Sevlydi continued, "but you're also the one displaying atrocious table manners."

"Sev, that will do," Jareth scolded, his voice still laced with humour.

Sarah wiped her chin with a napkin while she glared daggers at Sevlydi. The rest of dinner passed quietly. Sarah ate with less gusto and then excused herself for a late-night walk along the battlements.

* * *

It was usually tranquil along the parapet, compared to other parts of the castle. Sentry guards occasionally meandered across her path, but they were not as underfoot as they were inside. The last time she had been here was when she had rescued Jareth.

As her luck would have it, Sarah was not to be alone tonight. A barn owl watched her from the ramparts as she rambled along. She picked up her pace, boots clicking on the stones, her cloak brought to life by her motion and the breeze. Sarah still dressed every part the Goblin Queen, with skintight black leggings, grey boots, a light dusky tunic, and of course the medallion. Her usual attire hadn't magically returned after Jareth's reappearance. Sarah had noticed Jareth still did not have a replacement pendant, but every time she tried to remove the original from her neck, it would not budge. She had been too distracted to ask about it.

She faced the owl, as he canted his head in acknowledgement of her approach. Sarah had toyed with the idea of ignoring him completely, but seeing the raptor hobble along the wall with only one healthy leg, softened her heart. The owl's toes and talons on his defective leg were all contracted together, even as he tried to move. He relied profoundly on the splayed foot, the clenched foot used for balance haltingly.

Sarah retracted her claws, sighing into the wind as she pulled herself up to sit next to the owl. She dug the heels of her dangling feet into the natural ledges in the stone wall, her hands gripping behind while she surveyed the view. Her hands twitched to reach out and stroke the soft feathers of her owl companion.

"It is a beautiful sight," she mused.

"It is indeed," Sarah turned to see Jareth sitting next to her in his fae form, not looking at the view, but at her.

She scoffed. "Even in the Aboveground, that line is cheesy."

"I thought you liked cheese," Jareth rubbed the top of his cane with his thumb. Sarah noticed for the first time, a silver owl carved into the head, and his crescent emblem was a motif progressing down the shaft. "You certainly ate enough of it after dinner."

Sarah laughed, briefly reminded of the easy friendship they had been heading into before the revelation of his deception.

"Are you stalling on going to bed?" Jareth asked, his brow raised.

"Before you came back, I often walked along here after dinner," Sarah's tongue probed a tooth where she was sure a piece of lamb was stuck. She missed her electric toothbrush. "Sometimes with Hoggle."

"Oh, that would have made for an enlightening promenade," his sarcasm was thick. "I am surprised you resisted the urge to jump to your death. Or push him to his."

"I am not quite so melodramatic," Sarah pouted her lips. "And Hoggle is worthy company."

"And so he is; if being bored to death by his endless prattle, is your desire," Jareth sniffed as if there was a bad smell right under his nose.

"What other options do I have?" Sarah swung her legs out, alternating between each one.

"Me."

"After your artifice-" Sarah started but couldn't continue. Exhaling out of her nose, she changed tack, "I was up here the night you returned."

Jareth sighed. "With Joggle?"

"No, with Hoggle," Sarah supplied a mutinous look. "He was very helpful in your absence."

"And so he should- " Jareth tapped his cane. "It's his job. Though he has been nothing but a hindrance to me."

"Without him, I wouldn't have had that peach," Sarah pointed out. "Without him, I wouldn't have got passed the big giant metal thing wielding the axes. I would never have been your Champion."

"Humongous," Jareth corrected. "Bad form to forget the names of your subjects, Sarah. Especially ones that you murdered."

"Ha!" Sarah exclaimed at his hypocrisy. "Maybe I should start calling you Jargle or Jarod."

"And I will kiss you every time you do," he warned.

"You wouldn't dare," Sarah replied, flippantly, knowing full well he would dare.

"Speaking of kisses, if you had not found out about Terry that night, would you have kissed me?"

Sarah flushed. "I don't work in hypotheticals, Ja-," she stopped and banged her hand down on the wall. "Look, I will say the same thing I said to your brother; you lied, you broke my trust, and I am not just going to bend over backwards to your will, just because you are persistent."

"I know," Jareth held out his hand offering peace. "I wouldn't have you any other way. I once resented your determination, but I have come to admire it, so please don't fret that I am applying any pressure to you to forgive me. I am patient."

'Patient' didn't seem to be the word that rose to the forefront of her mind when she thought about Jareth. However, he seemed very self-satisfied with his magnanimity.

"Cinderella, Aladdin, Sleeping Beauty were all once favourites of yours," he went on. "They all pretended to be someone they weren't before they found their 'true love.'"

"They were stories, and incredibly lacking in nuance," Sarah bit back. "And how do you know that anyway? Were you spying on me?"

"No," he frowned. "I saw your room briefly after you defeated - after I won you as my Champion. You held a party with my subjects."

"Oh, that," Sarah looked down at her booted toes.

"I watched you on your run, and I used my crystals to try and find you after your kidnapping," he shifted uncomfortably, running a gloved hand down his hurt leg. "I have respected your privacy, because like I have said before, I only want what you offer me freely."

"That doesn't sit well with your stealing three hours away from me, or-," Sarah argued.

"I cheated you as part of the game," he pinched the bridge of his nose. "That's not to say that I didn't enjoy tormenting you, because I very much did."

Jareth grinned at her shocked expression. "Hindsight is a powerful tool, though Sarah. I soon learnt my error in judgment when it came to you. I did so enjoy cheating the Pinnsburrs of their Stolen Pearl, however."

Jareth gave another grin, this time he reached out, patting Sarah on the arm. "If it hadn't been for you and everything that you have achieved, I would never have such a precious thing for my Queen Regent. I may have lost my kingdom by now, without you on the throne beside me."

Sarah bit her lip. "How so?"

"I know Sevlydi has told you about the pearl theory," Jareth confessed. "When I first found the pearl, I was thrilled at not having to obtain my wife. Sarah, I have never courted anyone, and never bothered to woo them. Fae and on the occasion elves, have always offered themselves to me. Every single dalliance I have ever had came to me on a silver platter."

Sarah rolled her eyes.

"You may roll your eyes," he smirked. "But its the truth. However, you have offered me a challenge, and I appreciate that all the more. I will woo you, court you if you wish, whatever it takes. Sarah, you know how precious you are to me."

"Jareth, I -," her hand instinctively went up to her medallion, reminding her of one of the things she kept meaning to talk about but never managed to. This sudden thought was the perfect segue to derail any further dialogue about their feelings. "How do I return your pendant?"

Jareth's face reflected his confusion at her abrupt change of subject. "Your choice is to remain the Queen regardless of which of the three contracts you sign."

"Yes, but this is your medallion," Sarah tugged with futility on the cord around her neck.

"Not any more," his hand went up to his throat. "I will get another one for myself in due course. When the goblins have finished fashioning it."

"I see," Sarah gazed back into the labyrinth's distance. "So I can't remove this at all?"

"You can once you accept your role," it was his turn to look out across the giant maze.

"I have accepted my role," Sarah glared at him.

"Not completely," Jareth turned back to her. "The Labyrinth still senses some dissent in you."

Sarah surreptitiously tried scraping the meat out of her teeth with the nail of her little finger. She was behaving in a very un-queen like manner today. "Yes, well."

"Sarah," Jareth passed her a toothpick, which she accepted with sulky haste. "Do you happen to know how I ended up out of my prison?"

Sarah turned to him, the toothpick hanging out of her mouth. "I think so."

"Care to enlighten me?"

"I made a wish," she muttered, removing the pick. "I made a wish, and you appeared."

"What did you wish?"

"I wished that you were back," Sarah's tongue ran over her now meat-free teeth. "I didn't want to be Queen."

"It can't be that simple, or anyone could _rescue_ anyone with a wish," Jareth ruminated out loud. He said rescue as if it was a dirty word.

"That's what I thought too," Sarah concurred. "If it makes any difference, I was holding the pearl and- that son of a bitch."

"What?"

"Sevlydi knew, the sly thing," Sarah sucked air between her teeth. "He got me to summon you through my- the pearl yesterday. So he knew that is how I rescued you."

"He never mentioned it to me," Jareth's brows knitted.

"He was probably trying to bait me for reasons only he knew," Sarah scratched her chin in thought. "So perhaps me touching the pearl and your medallion, was enough to overpower the magic that kept you trapped."

"That is plausible," he gave a mild smile. "Sev did mention how you used the pearl to find me. And if I remember correctly, it was a full moon that night."

"It was," Sarah acknowledged. "Does that mean something?"

"Lunar magic is practised by some Underground Parties," Jareth clarified. "It has largely fallen out of favour, but with a wish, the pearl, the jewellery and the moon collectively, you may have summoned enough magic to set me free."

"Sevlydi must have worked it out then," Sarah pondered. "Interesting he didn't tell you."

"We aren't exactly bosom buddies," Jareth started rubbing a loose pebble between finger and thumb, then skipping it across the backs of his fingers. Sarah was momentarily mesmerised by his talent. "I am responsible for the forced separation between him and the man he loves."

"He took your assumed death hard," Sarah mused. "It was the most emotion I have ever seen from one of your kind. And the most genuine."

"You didn't see me when I realised you were stolen by the Pinnsburrs," Jareth muttered under his breath.

Sarah chewed the inside of her cheek, resisting any desire to quarrel. There was an element of self-blame that they were heading back into feelings territory. It was preferable to remain tight-lipped.

"How did you take it?" Jareth asked after a moment's silence. His voice was confident but tinged with the vulnerability Sarah was starting to see more and more from him.

"How did I take what?" Sarah stifled a yawn.

"My supposed death," he clarified. "I suspect you were pleased."

"What makes you say that?"

"Your villain, vanquished," he bared his teeth in a show of distaste.

"Actually I was incredibly confused about how I was supposed to feel and act," Sarah crossed her ankles, and swung them in unison. "I was conflicted."

"Conflicted in what way?"

"I felt the loss, and that would make me angry," she shook her head. "I didn't want to feel anything. Thinking you were dead, was not a victory for me."

"Did you ever shed a tear?"

The lie was out of her mouth before she could stop it. "No."

Jareth's face grew grim. "You speak an untruth. I can taste it."

"Well, you do make lying quite the art form," Sarah gave an inelegant snort. "It does not surprise me that you can sense something that you often purvey."

"Touché," he acknowledged the hit. "I will apologise every day for the rest of our lives if I have to. Hurting you was never my intent."

"And yet…"

"And yet, we chase this same dialogue in circles," he picked at the rough-hewn stone under them with the pebble. "Are you hoping for resolution?"

Sarah sighed and held her head in her hand. "I do not know."

"I am still waiting for you to unleash your ire on me, Sarah," Jareth chuckled softly. "You have made snide comments aplenty, but I have yet to see your full fury. I'm growing concerned."

"I unleashed it on your hapless brother," she laughed. "I had two weeks to process my feelings."

"And yet, you still do not know how you feel," Jareth probed.

"No," she bit her lip and looked at him. "I would like very much to have the answer, but I have been betrayed so many times in my life, I don't think-."

Sharing so much personal information with Jareth was draining. She closed her eyes as the breeze blew honeysuckle and jasmine scents up from the gardens below. Maybe it was time Jareth shared something of himself.

She opened her eyes to see his piercing mismatched eyes unwavering from her face. "Tell me then, this emotion you said you had after my second abduction by those two fae creatures, what was it?"

Jareth's mouth twitched. "Agony."

Sarah waited for Jareth to elaborate, but he turned away from her, casually straightening his gloves. She tsked and turned her attention away from him. Without detecting any movement, he was suddenly a lot closer, his breath hot on her neck as he spoke.

"It was like a piece of my heart had been ripped out of my chest and then stomped on," Jareth whispered, his breath igniting across her skin, stirring her hair most delightfully. Delicious shivers crawled across her scalp. "It was nearly the most exquisite pain that I have ever encountered, and I can count how many times I have been in pain on one hand."

He paused, his hot breath unrelenting across the nape of her neck. "It was more painful than all the torture I experienced but not quite as painful as being led to believe you were dead. That felt like ten thousand times the pain of torture because I had failed you. I vowed then I would avenge your death. I would have given you the funeral of a Queen, and I would have burned anyone to the ground that dared to make me wed someone who _wasn't_ **you**."

Sarah tingled from his words. Her stomach lurched, whether, in pleasure or disgust, she couldn't determine. She focused on keeping her face neutral and detached, struggling dismally in her efforts. Sarah tried moving away from Jareth but found that his arm was leaning against the wall on her other side, effectively trapping her.

"Seeing you such a victim of abuse, put things into perspective for me," she finally said, though her throat was tight. "You asked why I haven't yelled. I may be angry and unforgiving right now, but seeing you as the victim diminished that somewhat."

Sarah coughed slightly, too tense to shift her body and make contact with the arms on either side of her. The heat radiating off him was enough contact. She could feel, rather than see his entire posture stiffen beside her.

"Do not refer to me as the victim, Sarah," his voice was deadly. Sarah visibly gulped, her planned indifference forgotten as nerves took over. Jareth may have softened his sharp edges around her, but he was still dangerous, and she was a fool to disregard it. He took both his arms away from around her. "You forget that I was replete of my magic as I tried to fight everyone else's magic. I conquered the enchantments of at least two fae, as well as my half-siblings to allow your escape. I was made- vulnerable- by that experience. Something that I would never have allowed to happen if it wasn't for ensuring your safety."

Sarah studied her boots. It irritated her that she was freed by Jareth, in the first place. She would have sooner been the bold warrior, surprising Jareth by rescuing herself, savouring the expression on his self-righteous mug.

"I do not begrudge saving you," Jareth went on, softer. "But I am not a victim."

Sarah was rapidly getting sleepy, despite the brisk night air keeping her awake. She knew she would have to face going to bed and having her training at some point soon. Having Jareth in his dark mood wasn't easing her apprehension of that fact.

"You can't go risking your life every time you fuck up," Sarah pushed off the wall, landing elegantly back on the parapet. "This isn't a chick-flick. It's a grand gesture to save my life, worthy of any heroine swooning and forgiving, but what I need is time, not flowery displays and sacrifices."

"What is a chick-flick?" he raised his brow in question. "It sounds like a game the goblins would play with baby chickens."

Sarah laughed. She couldn't help it. Sometimes his naivete of Aboveground, particularly North American culture, almost made him endearing. Almost.

"Chick-flicks are stories aimed at usually a female audience, where the male typically does some grand display to win the girl, particularly after they've fucked up," Sarah explained. "They usually portray women who are only interested in men, relationships, love and romance."

"Women here are mostly interested in power, social climbing and marrying off their offspring to get more power and social standing," Jareth observed casually.

Sarah wrinkled her nose. "There are a few chick-flicks I like, but I prefer myself a strong female protagonist who doesn't require a man to live a healthy, happy life."

Jareth smirked. "Of course."

Sarah took the chance to continue her walk along the wall, knowing it was inevitable that training would have to start soon.

"Sarah," Jareth called as she moved past him. He slid off the wall, landing heavily on his undamaged foot. "I don't like losing. I have never apologised to anyone in my life, and I have only ever done so to you. Repeatedly. I haven't been accustomed to living up to anybody's expectations as much as I have yours."

Sarah revolved around slowly to face him. "I am aware that you fight your nature a great deal to try and appeal to me."

He sighed. "As do you, fight yours."

Sarah snapped her head back with a sharp frown. "I have never tried to appeal to you."

"And yet, you still do," he took one hobbling step closer. "You don't flatter and flaunt, but you naturally still get my attention, and that says a lot about you, Sarah."

Sarah swallowed. She countered his earlier statement with, "I do not fight my nature."

Jareth chuckled. "Isn't it easier to just surrender? Your nature is to be stubborn, but denying your desires is fighting your nature."

"Surrender to what?"

"Surrender to me," he smirked. "Abandon yourself to your true feelings."

Sarah scoffed. "Are you still dying for me to tell you how attractive I find you?"

"It's a start," Jareth took one final limp to close the gap.

"I find you attractive," Sarah said bluntly and without passion. "But I also find the idea of eating ice cream by the pool in summer attractive, but I wouldn't want to be there during winter."

"But you **do** find me attractive," he grinned. "Now shall we go to bed?"

Sarah grimaced, offered a shrug and walked past him to go inside.

* * *

Jareth was about to have Sarah in his bed. Despite the innocent reasons, he still couldn't be more thrilled about the prospect. She refused to get ready for bed in his chambers, so he had shown her the secret tunnel system from her rooms to his. Once she had dressed and bathed, she could head through the tunnel, and no-one would be any the wiser. He smiled, pleased with his benevolence.

A slight knock on the wooden panel that hid the tunnel came swiftly. There his dark-haired vision stood, grasping her robe around herself as he opened up the door to let her in. He grinned, she scowled; business as usual. Sarah walked in with a steady gait, but Jareth could sense her nerves.

"A cup of cocoa before we begin," he gestured to the armchairs next to the fire. He watched her nod with trepidation. "It's not poisoned or laced with anything."

They both sat, sipping cautiously on the hot sweet, liquid, without talking. Jareth wished he could call the silence companionable, but Sarah was too focused on not seeming skittish and failing.

"So this is your den of iniquity," Sarah broke the tense silence.

"You've been in here before," he tilted his head at her. "You contributed vases of flowers and songs if I remember rightly."

Sarah blushed. "Not at night."

"Not while I was conscious anyway," Jareth watched the blush deepen. He grinned. He knew that she had often fallen asleep in the armchair she now sat in while he was recovering. "But no, it is only a den of iniquity, if you view sex as immoral."

Sarah conceded his point with a hastily raised brow. "I was just trying to make conversation."

"By jumping straight into a discussion on my sex life?" he leaned forward. "I am not complaining."

Sarah rolled her eyes, suppressing her grin behind her cup of cocoa. It didn't escape his notice that she was starting to relax.

"I would, however, ask you to stop insisting there is something wrong with having a healthy sex life," he lowered his cup as he searched her face. She nodded. Jareth believed her snide comments on his sexual appetite were borne more out of curiosity and perhaps jealousy than shame. It did fill him with possessiveness imagining Sarah with any other man, but only because he had been restraining himself, against his very being, for her. As much as he had unmet needs, he found he only wanted Sarah to slake them. Who she slept with in the past was inconsequential; as long as he had her future.

"I guess it is one of those differences between us," she took another cautious sip. "Humans and fae, I mean."

He hummed his acknowledgement. "I imagine it is."

Jareth enjoyed watching Sarah's form backlit by the fire, in his room and wearing her night-clothes while talking about his sex life; though there had been a deplorable lack of it of late. He felt the stirrings in his groin and instantly thought to change the subject. Not because he was ashamed of his growing desire - far from it, but he was aware of the delicate position he was in with trying to earn Sarah's trust back.

"So tonight, when you have fallen asleep, I will enter your dreams and show you how to enter the walking state," Jareth placed his empty cup down on the side table, licking his lips. "I think we will start walking in the past because as it has already happened, there is less risk to you. It's always a good place to start with beginners."

"Will you see what I see this time?" Sarah asked.

"That's a good question," he tapped his lip. "I couldn't see into your future, because you didn't invite me to see it, but the past works a little bit differently. The past has happened, so can't be changed; the future is still merely a possibility. So yes, I will see it."

He watched her bite her lip and nod slowly. "And if there was something we walked into that I didn't want you to see?"

"Then we will leave," he steepled his fingers in front of him. "I will assist you in another dream until you are confident enough to transport yourself. To start with, think of influential memories as you drift off to sleep."

"And when training is complete for the night, may I go back to my room?" Sarah asked sceptically.

Jareth was tempted to go with his nature, and utter some innuendo, but he knew things were too delicate for ribald comments. "You will be incredibly tired, but if you are cognizant enough to make it back to your apartment, then you may do so."

Sarah chewed her lip with more ferocity but nodded again. "I am trusting you to be honourable for once in your life."

"I am sure I have acted with honour at least three times in my life," he grinned at her scowl, before languidly stretching his legs. "I will not take advantage of you, Sarah. I swear on Higgle's life."

"Seriously?" Sarah threw her hands up in annoyance. "You can't even get his name right when you're swearing on his life. And on a life that means nothing to you."

"You're right," he grinned wider. He had sworn on Hoggle's life because he meant something to Sarah, not to him. He placed his hand over his groin as he continued, "I should perhaps pledge my vow on something incredibly more important than Hoggswallop. I swear on my royal jewels that nothing untoward will happen at my hand, or any others while I am training you in the art of walking."

Sarah laughed, and Jareth noticed her rosy-hued cheeks and the way her eyes had tracked down to his hand cupping his bulge. Her voice was thick as she continued to speak. "Trust you to value that part of your anatomy."

"I am at least predictable," he winked. "And you then at least know I equally would not risk any harm to my most precious body part, just as I wouldn't allow any harm to come to you."

Jareth smiled at the thought that one day she may value that body part too. He stood despite the residual erection. He leaned heavily on his cane, heading towards the bed, waving a hand to change into his night-clothes as he went. Jareth slipped into the bed, placing his cane against the bedside cabinet, and turning the sheets down for Sarah to join him. He watched through half-shuttered eyes, as she placed her cup down and stepped over to the bed with an air of confidence, that Jareth could tell, was not authentic.

She slid in, making sure no part of her body made contact his. Sarah could not be comfortable practically teetering on the edge of the mattress. He waved his hand to extinguish all the candles and dim the fire before he brought the blankets over her exposed shoulders.

"You're sleeping in your robe," he pointed out.

"Yes," Sarah's voice was muffled by the pillow under which she was practically burying herself. Jareth bit his lip between sharp canines in amusement.

"Goodnight, Sarah," Jareth lay on his back and stared up at the ceiling while he waited for her to doze off. He'd be true to his word; he wouldn't lay a finger on her until she was asleep and his touch would be required to commence training. Having her this close, was balm enough for him. It showed her level of trust in him was high, despite the way he had broken it. Or Sarah feared what she had seen when she 'walked' more than her distrust of him. Either way, he would use this to his advantage to gain her trust.

"Goodnight, Jareth," came her muted reply. He smiled. His name on her lips was more decadent than chocolate.

Eventually, her breathing evened out, and when he gained no response from whispering her name, he rolled over to face her back. Jareth placed his palm to Sarah's back, closing his eyes and urging himself to find her.

* * *

_When Jareth entered Sarah's 'walking' state, he saw Sarah as she was now standing in a nursery. A screaming baby was in the cot and the room devoid of any parental figure._

" _Sarah?" he approached her gently. She glanced at him with wide eyes. He frowned and looked down at the screaming baby. It had a tuft of dark hair on its head and was barely a few months old. The red, scrunched face elicited his sympathy for the little beggar. He resisted the urge to pick the wee scrap of life up and cuddle it._

_The door burst open at this point, and in walked a furious dark-haired woman, holding a telephone to her chest._

" _Oh, would you just stop screaming for five minutes?" snapped the lady who bore a resemblance to Sarah, but was clearly not her. "You are so dramatic. I am on an important phone call, and you will just have to wait for whatever it is that you are wailing for now."_

_Jareth's teeth clenched in annoyance, as he realised the screaming baby was Sarah, and this was her mother. The baby continued to wail. The mother stomped her foot in frustration and placed the phone to her ear._

" _I am just going to have to let her scream it out, darling," she spoke loudly into the receiver. "Robert wanted the damn thing so desperately. He should be here attending to her persistent demands. It's not every day your agent phones to let you know about Broadway, is it?"_

_And with that, she shut the door and left. The baby ramped up her intensity._

" _This isn't my memory," Sarah said in a meek voice._

" _It is your past, but you were a baby," he shuffled over to the side of the cot. Against his better judgement, he picked up the baby Sarah and held her to his chest, rocking her gently, until she let out a big burp. "You wouldn't remember."_

" _How are you able to do that, if Linda couldn't even see us?" Sarah asked him, as the crying lessened._

" _Babies and children are more in touch with magic than adults," Jareth explained. "Remember you are really here, but undetectable."_

_Baby Sarah had stopped screaming with the release of the trapped air and opened her teary green eyes to stare unreservedly into his eyes. The wee bundle hiccoughed and fussed, but was blessedly quiet._

" _Why are you holding me?" Sarah asked._

" _I can't let a baby scream itself hoarse, even if it is the baby version of the thorn in my side," Jareth cooed at the little babe who was now giving away toothless smiles with abandon._

" _Won't this affect my future?" Sarah's frown deepened. "The books said we shouldn't interfere."_

" _Just so," Jareth playfully poked his tongue out at baby Sarah. "But no harm can come from one small episode of comfort, Sarah."_

" _This is so weird," Sarah huffed. "The Goblin King is rocking me to sleep."_

_He grinned, at Sarah and then the gurgling baby in his arms. "I think she is quite delighted with me."_

_Sarah scoffed. "She will grow up to dislike you immensely."_

_Jareth's grin stretched wider. "She will grow up to be the most beautifully defiant human I have ever been fortunate enough to encounter."_

_He gave the small baby a peck on her forehead, before lowering the now sleepy bundle into the cot. He stepped back and turned to see the adult Sarah glowering at him._

_He sighed. "Your mother didn't need to wish her baby away to seek her dreams I take it."_

" _No, she just took them," Sarah shook her head._

" _We should go," he gave one more glance at the now fast asleep Sarah and took the hand of the adult-Sarah. "Think of another memory. Try and focus on the energy inside you, as you read in the books."_

_He whisked them through time and space until they landed in another memory. This time they were in a kitchen. A man was reading his newspaper, while a woman was chatting animatedly on the telephone. Jareth recognised her as Linda, Sarah's mother. The man, he assumed to be Robert, her father. Sarah entered through the door dressed like a princess; dark hair braided down her back, make-up smudged around her eyes and a puffy pink dress._

" _Mommy, mommy, I am a fairy princess," she chorused. Her mother didn't even bat an eye, just waved her hand in dismissal. Her father lowered his newspaper to offer a mild smile at his precocious daughter._

" _The world's most beautiful fairy princess," he told her. "Off to find your knight in shining armour?"_

" _Yeah, I need to rescue him from the dragon, daddy," she sung. "Silly Prince keeps getting himself into trouble."_

_Linda chose this time to engage with her child. "Don't settle for a prince, darling. Find yourself a king. A rich one."_

_Adult-Sarah scoffed. Jareth smirked. "I am very wealthy, Sarah."_

_Linda returned to her phone conversation, and Robert, his newspaper. Child-Sarah straightened her shoulders, spun on her heel and skipped out of the room. Jareth went to follow when he saw Sarah wistfully watching her father._

" _We have to follow you," he guided her away. "As hard as it is to witness our loved ones alive, you can't stay here."_

_Sarah nodded, tears flowing freely down her cheeks. Jareth pulled her closer towards him as they followed the child out the back door. The garden was a grass lawn lined with trees and a low fence. Multiple clusters of toys and dolls scattered across the yard, a Wendy-house sat absolute centre, with a flag hanging limply from a pole atop the roof. Jareth observed the flag was a tea towel with a fairy pattern._

" _This can be the last one for tonight," he reassured her. "Walking in our memories can be- exhausting."_

_Once in the garden, they watched mini-Sarah frolic playfully through the long grass, singing and charging down imaginary foes._

" _You practised siege tactics from a young age," Jareth chuckled, watching Sarah brandishing a long stick to try and slay the dragon-toy. When she had achieved her goal, she dragged a reluctant rag doll back towards the washing line outside the Wendy House._

" _There you are fair Prince," child-Sarah threw the ragdoll down. "You are rescued."_

_Jareth chortled. "You were so gracious."_

" _Shut up," Sarah grinned back, eyes still sparkling with tears._

" _You shall not marry me," young Sarah announced, grandly. "I am promised to another."_

" _And who is this other that you shall marry?" young Sarah squeaked in a rendition of a male voice._

" _I am betrothed to the Goblin King," young Sarah declared, raising her sword in a salute._

_Jareth smirked. Young Sarah brought out the red book and showed the rag doll. "He loves me and will let me continue to fight dragons as I wish."_

" _We can leave now," Sarah grabbed his arm to drag him away. Jareth stilled her with a look._

" _Wait," he breathed._

" _It isn't the place of a girl to slay dragons," young Sarah said in her false voice of the prince. "You need to stay home, and raise children and wash dishes."_

" _This is why I will not marry you, though I just saved you from that dragon," she reasoned, lowering her stick. "The Goblin King will wash the dishes for me."_

" _You got that wrong," Jareth smirked. "I do not condone the murder of innocent dragons, and I have never washed a dish in my life. That is what servants are for."_

" _Good thing, that young me was also wrong about me marrying you then," Sarah parried back._

_Jareth tore his attention back to the girl who was now, arresting the ragdoll prince for daring to challenge her. She tied him to the washing line pole before she skipped back to a thicket at the bottom of the garden._

" _Goblin King," young Sarah called, kneeling on the ground. "I am ready to marry you."_

_Then two things happened at once: young Sarah turned to face the two adults, her face lighting up with delight. Adult-Sarah let out a gasp and covered her mouth._

_Jareth turned to her. "What is the matter?"_

" _She - I see you," Sarah mumbled. "And I remember seeing you."_

_Jareth faced the young Sarah, who laughingly sprinted towards him. "What else do you remember?"_

" _You disappeared before I caught up to you," Sarah ran a hand through her hair. "But I wouldn't stop talking about it for months. All my school artwork and stories featured you. Everyone said I had a fantastic imagination, but it was real."_

_Jareth took hold of her arm. "It's time to wake up. Take your ball of energy inside you and picture waking up in my bed."_

_Sarah closed her eyes and did as he instructed. Jareth turned to see young Sarah's face drop in disappointment as they disappeared from the spot._

* * *

Sarah awakened, gradually and groggily. Jareth sat upright and looked over her shoulder.

"Sarah?"

"I didn't choose that memory," Sarah responded, her throat tight; tears leaking down her cheeks.

"It isn't a precise art when you are just learning," he leaned over, resting his chin on her shoulder. "But you did get us out of there, so it was a substantial first effort."

Sarah pushed Jareth off her shoulder and rolled over to face him. "Why did I see you?"

"Your young self desired to see me, and your adult self let that happen," he wiped her tears away with his thumb. It was a simple gesture, but healing in a way she didn't expect. Their bodies were close, and his warmth was comforting. "Your magic allowed yourself to see me, and I suspect the red book had its part to play as well."

"Have I fucked up somehow?"

"No," he pushed her hair off her face, his fingers sending shivers over her scalp. "Only when you destroyed my city, defeated my game and corrupted my subjects against me."

Sarah laughed despite the tears still flowing. "Why did it choose painful memories to revisit? Ones I didn't want to show you?"

"Maybe subconsciously you wanted to show me," he suggested, again wiping away her tears. "How was that last one painful?"

"Because I didn't have many friends at that stage in my life," Sarah closed her eyes, squeezing out a few more tears in the process. "And I saw my father alive and was again ignored by my mother. And my imaginary childhood friend turned out to be my real-life villain."

Not to mention the fact she had declared her intention to marry the Goblin King. Damn that book. Sarah groaned into her hands.

Jareth chuckled deeply. She could feel the vibration run through her body. "I, for one, am glad you didn't marry that limp rag-doll prince."

"In a way, I kind of did," Sarah retorted, thinking of Mark.

In a move that surprised both of them, Jareth kissed her affectionately on the forehead. His lips were warm and dry, and Sarah found that she did not hate his advances. She made a show of pushing him away, anyway. His lips still pressed to her skin, he told her, "you don't want me to see your pain because you think I will bruise your pride."

"How insightful," Sarah mumbled, sleepily.

"Are you ready to go to bed?" his hand smoothed her hair down, and his fingers ran along the outer rim of her ear. Sarah let the shudder move through her without restraint.

"Mmm," she replied, her eyes getting heavy.

"Would you like me to carry you back to your room?" Jareth asked, bemusedly. Sarah let out an unapologetic yawn.

Sarah tried to answer but felt sleep claim her.

* * *

Sarah felt safe, secure and warm. She felt powerful arms around her waist and warm, fresh breath on her face. She opened her gritty eyes to see the sharp, elegant profile of Jareth. Sarah blinked rapidly, shifting herself back slightly, only to feel Jareth's fingers grip her closer. Still, he remained asleep. Sarah took this time to study his features without returned scrutiny.

Sarah admired his long lashes sweeping across his cheek, and the unbound strands of delicate, blonde hair that flitted over Jareth's brow, stirred by his steady breathing. The scar across his brow and cheek was still visible at this distance. She longed to run her fingers over his razor-sharp cheekbones, but common sense prevailed. She didn't know if he was asleep and suspected he was pretending. Despite how harmlessly innocuous he looked in his sleep, Sarah knew better than to poke a sleeping dragon.

As carefully as she could manage, she stretched out her body, feeling the instant clamp of Jareth's hands again as he held her tighter. His eyes flicked open, and a small smile graced his lips.

"Good morning, Precious," he whispered, his warm breath stirring her hair. Sarah suddenly became ultra-aware that if she could perceive his breath, then he probably could smell hers. She eased her hand up and clamped it over her mouth. Jareth let out a throaty laugh before he let her go with one hand and pried her hand off her mouth. He left a small kiss in the palm of her hand.

"How do you feel?" he asked, her hand still in his.

"Raw," she answered honestly. "Seeing my dad-"

"Using your magic will do that too until you get used to it," his thumb stroked her hand.

"I usually don't wish death on people, but I have to express disappointment that Meffod and Yarbro live," Sarah said bitterly. "I mean thank goodness Toby was safe, but I don't see why my parents had to die. Fuck the Pinnsburrs."

Tears leaked down the tracks left by the ones shed during the night. She hurriedly wiped them away with her free hand.

"Going back into your memories will be easier, eventually," Jareth squeezed her hand. Sarah sniffed, before taking back her hand. He tried to reclaim it, grinning his toothy smile, eyes twinkling.

"Stop, or I will breathe all over you with morning breath," Sarah struggled to release her hand. He didn't let her hand go, sharp teeth chewing his bottom lip as he watched her reaction. So Sarah sucked in as much air as she could manage and let it all out in his face.

"By the bog, woman,' he laughed waving his hand in front of his face. Sarah whisked her hand free and slid out of bed.

"Don't say I didn't warn you," she smiled mischievously back at him.

"Before you go," he sat up. "Would you like to try and contact your friend again?"

Sarah froze. Hilary. She had barely thought about her. "We tried so many times, but she is never there."

Jareth climbed out of bed, grabbing his cane and strode (as much as his busted leg could manage) towards her. His silky night-clothes glinted in the dawn light, making her think of black sand, or titanomagnetite beaches she had seen in National Geographic magazines. That was her least sinful thought at any rate.

"If she has the red book, we need to contact her," Jareth leant against the wall, crossing his arms, cane tucked under his armpit. "We can't let it fall into the wrong hands. And I can't just go and retrieve it until I see her."

"I am definitely keen to try," she grinned. "When can we try?"

"Right now if you'd like," the hitch in his gait noticeable as he ambled over to the mirror opposite his bed. Sarah followed.

"I think I should change my clothes first," Sarah blushed at the thought of Hilary thinking she had slept with Jareth. He just tutted impatiently, weaving a crystal in between his fingers.

"If you wish, but I have already started opening the portal," Jareth said, indifferently.

"Fine," Sarah shrugged, following him to the mirror, tugging the robe around her tighter. A shallow part of her wouldn't mind Hilary seeing her in a state of undress with an ethereally beautiful fae and then putting two and two together. It might stop her giving her grief over Mark.

Sarah gazed into the mirror as it rippled, and opened up into Hilary's room.

"Hilary?" Sarah called. "Hills?"

Jareth stood behind her, uneven, but still regal, scanning the items on her dresser.

"Sarah?" came a distant voice.

"Hilary, come to your mirror," Sarah called back.

"Sarah!" Hilary's face came into view. Blue hair had given way back to her natural red hair. "It's really you?"

"Yes, it is me," Sarah beamed. "Hilary, it is so good to see you."

"I was hoping you would visit me one of these days," Hilary beamed back, blue eyes shining.

"I tried," Sarah swore. "But you were never there, or the portal just wouldn't open."

"I am so glad you are ok," Hilary gushed. "That ugly dwarf thing, Higgle, told me you were safe, but it is so good to see you in the flesh."

"Hoggle," Sarah corrected.

Jareth roared with laughter. "Oh, I like her."

Hilary looked past Sarah to where Jareth was standing, arms still crossed, merriment written all over his face.

"Is that your kidnapper, Sarah?" Hilary whispered. Jareth's face lost all trace of jocularity.

"No," Sarah replied, eyeing Jareth warily. "He is just the King."

"Just?" Jareth muttered, his scowl deepening.

"Sarah," Hilary's eyes darted between the two of them. "Is there something you want to tell me?"

"Not particularly," Sarah frowned.

"Are you - " Hilary swallowed, eyeing Jareth again. "Have you finally moved on from Mark?"

"I moved on from Mark ages ago," Sarah frowned.

"I can see that," Hilary waggled her brows, suggestively.

"But not in the way you are thinking. We -" she pointed to Jareth and herself. "-Are just common and indifferent - enemies."

Jareth cleared his throat behind her. "We are also co-monarchs."

Hilary didn't seem to hear, however. "When are you coming home?"

"Hilary," Sarah paused. How to tell her that she wouldn't likely be coming home? "I can't return to my old life. And it would raise too many questions if I came back now. It would put people in an awkward situation as so much time has passed."

"I thought as much," Hilary sighed. "I miss you, Sar."

"I miss you too," Sarah bit her lip to restrain her tears.

"I have so much to tell you," Hilary chirped up. "Once I knew you were safe, I kind of went back to living my life. I got a job, etc. But I didn't stop trying to find Toby. And Sarah, I am so glad I got to speak to you. I finally found him."

"You found Toby?" Sarah rushed the mirror, tempted to jump in.

"I have his address here," she waved a scrap of paper. "I tried so many phone numbers, but I finally got hold of his aunt, and then Alastair, that guy you dated briefly before Mark, he managed to track his address. We go and watch Toby from the park outside his house now and then, and he is looking healthy, but unfortunately very miserable."

Sarah dropped to her knees in shock and euphoria. She instantly felt Jareth's arms holding her but was too ecstatic to challenge him. "You found Toby."

"Tell us his address," Jareth asked, sternly. He nodded briskly as she told him. "And the red book?"

"Oh," Hilary's face dropped. "Mark came and claimed everything back. The mirror was too heavy for him to move, but the book is now in his possession."

Jareth's look turned dark and furious while Hilary narrated the story of Mark turning up drunk at her door with paperwork, demanding Sarah's possessions back. Hilary could not disclose why he had done that; except for spite.

Sarah was shrouded in her euphoria from knowing Toby's whereabouts, that she scarcely discerned Jareth's unrest, even when he rapped his cane on the ground.

"These were the wrong hands I was worried about," Jareth said, darkly.

* * *

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Ok, so there was no smut in this chapter, but there is a taste of lemon in the next. Promise. 
> 
> Eeeek, they found Toby. I wonder if our Sarah will be reunited with him??? And Sarah has unfinished business with Mark - pesky ex-husbands. I think Jareth hides his jealousy of her past quite well, but will he be able to keep that up? We all know he is possessive... 
> 
> So yes, I pulled the only one-bed trope in this trope fest. SorryNotSorry. 
> 
> Thanks to all my LFFL sounding boards, and my dysfunctional family for the laughs that get me through my dark days. 
> 
> Thanks too anyone who is reading this. Some of you have given me such sweet boosts to my confidence. :) 


	20. Chapter Nineteen

CHAPTER NINETEEN

After the mirror conversation with Hilary had finished, Jareth started pacing up and down, the cane hitting the ground with loud, purposeful clanks. He began running his fingers through his hair, shaking out a loose plait, Sarah had only just noticed he had. Sarah knelt on the hard ground, in a daze. A crooked smile on her face. They knew where Toby lived. Surely that meant they could now go to him.

Jareth swore, snapping Sarah out of her daze. She mildly noted his agitation. "Jareth, can we go to Toby?"

Jareth paused in his pacing and swivelled around to face her. He swore again. Kneeling unevenly in front of her, cane forgotten on the ground, he took her hand in his. "Oh my Precious, no."

Sarah started but stalled when he squeezed her hands. "I can't circumvent his protection, but we now have more hope than ever. If only your friend hadn't let go of the red book."

Sarah frowned. "I won't have you blaming her, by the way. Mark is the one who you should be angry at, not Hilary."

Jareth dismissed her statement with a wave of his hand.

"Is it bad that he has the book?"

"It could be," he growled. "Who knows who will get hold of it. I can't break the cycle if I can't retrieve the book."

"Can't you just magically search for the book?"

"Yes, but also no," he let go of her hands, reaching for his cane. "The Book and I are connected. Which means I can find it, but the current owner has to relinquish it to me. Until it is offered to me by its keeper, I can not touch it."

"Which is why you are mad," Sarah inferred. "Because if Hilary still had it, then I could have retrieved the book."

"I'd save you from confronting your husband again, Sarah," Jareth grimaced, listing to one side even in a kneel. Sarah bit back a mocking laugh. She wasn't afraid of her husband, but she'd quite happily never see him again.

"Why do I have to confront him?" Sarah pulled herself to her feet. "Why don't you just go and deal with him?"

"I can't just interfere in mortal lives willy-nilly," Jareth explained like she was a five year old. He unfolded himself to stand up, propping himself up on the cane, then facing her with his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose.

"You interfered in mine," Sarah retorted. Jareth looked like he was going to retaliate, but he just laughed.

"You wished me to do so," he winked.

"You came to that party," Sarah pointed out. "

"I did," Jareth started pacing again. "Only after the thirteen years of protection had worn off you."

"Well, you would have kidnapped me if the Pinnsburrs hadn't beaten you to it," Sarah pressed.

"Is that what you think?" he shook his head. "No, I came to talk to you. Not kidnap you."

"So if you can come to just talk to me, then why can't you just go and talk to Mark?" Sarah was getting more thoroughly confused.

"Because you were fae touched," Jareth closed his eyes, briefly letting his mask slip. "Mark is not fae-touched, so I can not just go to him."

"How was I fae-touched?"

"The peach," he replied bluntly. Sarah expected it and was not at all astonished by this news. She rolled her eyes, muttering about that 'damn peach' under her breath. Jareth raised a brow but remained close-lipped.

"So what do I need to do to get the book back then?"

"I can send you back," he suggested. "But if I do that, I might not be able to bring you back with me."

"Why on earth not?"

"Your magic hasn't fully manifested," Jareth shrugged. "It might not be the case, but usually when you have only so much magic, crossing the border is incredibly difficult. Unless it is Samhain or Beltane when the veil is thinner, which was the only way the Pinnsburrs could cross the veil to retrieve you."

"So we could wait for those days?"

"That's a possibility."

"And this is the same reason you can't rescue Toby?"

"That, and the Labyrinth protects him," he had moved stiffly to stare out of one of the windows.

"How can you get me across the veil, but not back?"

"You have enough magic to get across," he granted her an explanation. "No veil keepers will question a mortal returning Above, but they will question one coming back. Look at it as your human physics - it exists, it is real, but it is very difficult to explain. I have never had to transport a mortal through the veil, either way, that wasn't a wished-away nor a wisher. I am not positive it can't be done, but I'd rather not risk it."

Sarah knew he left the words "risk losing you," unsaid. She thought his explanation of the rules sounded very much like something out of the Doctor Who series her dad used to watch when she was a kid. She accepted his answer, because what else could she do?

"I can get across with no issues because I have significant stores of power, and because it is strengthened usually, by a wish," he went on. "The other option is portals, but they are indirect and hard to navigate. We could end up in the right continent, but not the right village. I made a portal for you, when you first entered the Labyrinth, but the magic of the Labyrinth mitigates that process. It is less accurate going in the opposite direction."

Sarah remembered the shock of seeing her parent's bedroom opening up into that dusty hill. Jareth had already explained that wishes strengthened that magic, so it wasn't worth asking if that was how they'd get back Underground.

"On the occasions, I have crossed to the Above, when it has not been a wish or Samhain or Beltane, it has been to check in on past runners, Jareth continued with his monologue. "That's how I saw you for the first time, just before your run. I had been returning from monitoring a past runner when the book called me."

"How come you can check on previous runners, but not Toby?"

"Unprecedented," he said briskly. "No-one had won before, and therefore they do not get the boon of the Labyrinth's protection from me or my ilk."

"I probably don't want to know what you mean by checking in on previous runners then, do I?"

Jareth's teeth glinted in the dawn glow. "I have been alive for a very long time, so some of my reactions may be quite medieval to your way of thinking, and certain runners deserved more justice than what the Labyrinth doled out to them. No, you probably do not want to know."

"Thank goodness I won then," Sarah sucked in air through her teeth in relief. Her stomach was roiling at the thought of any further penalties Jareth had carried out in the past.

"Do you think your situation deserved additional punishment meted out, Sarah?"

"Heck no," Sarah laughed bitterly. "I made a mistake, but I never wished harm on Toby. I love him."

"I know," Jareth clicked his tongue on the roof of his mouth. "If you had lost, I don't think there would be any punishment I could administer, that would be worse than how you would punish yourself."

They slipped into a silence that wasn't altogether unpleasant. Sarah could attest to the truth of Jareth's words, though found difficulty in expressing this verbally. If she had lost Toby, she wouldn't need an immortal fae to become her own worst enemy. As it was, Toby's awful aunt becoming his guardian had infused enough guilt within her.

"Mostly, when I check on runners it is to ensure that any children that have come into their care are well looked after," Jareth continued sensing her discomfort. "If you take your dreams or you fail to win your child back, you belong to the Labyrinth. Your life isn't really your own from the moment you wish your child away."

Sarah looked around at where she ended up and thought the same applied to winners, as well as losers. However, she probably is better off than those who had lost, despite the nearly 16 years of guilt she felt.

"Is it not in my job description to answer wishes?" Sarah prodded, referring back to Jareth's earlier explanation of crossing the veil. "As Queen-"

"Perhaps," Jareth rubbed his temples. "It is not like two monarchs have ever ruled side by side without being married, so I don't know the particulars, but again, your magic hasn't manifested enough to do so."

"So how do I manifest it?"

Jareth inhaled. "Do you enjoy tormenting me with so many questions?"

"As much as you do, evading the truth."

"Aren't you just a treasure?" Jareth asked sarcastically.

"So are you," Sarah replied with phoney cheer. "One that I would quite like to bury."

"Why don't you introduce your top lip to your bottom lip?" Jareth snarled. "I don't suppose they have ever met. Hmmm?"

"Look, I am trying to see things from your point of view," Sarah snapped, and in a softer tone, she followed with, "but I can't quite fit my head that far up my arse."

"How mature," Jareth muttered.

"I am trying to help you," Sarah growled. "If you don't want my questions, then don't expect my help."

"Oh, you assuredly have been incredibly helpful," Jareth snarkily replied. "Just not today."

"So how do I manifest my magic?" Sarah resumed their actual conversation through gritted teeth. "I am going to pretend you are not trying to insult me."

Sarah saw his jaw twitch before looking away sharply. "Through the choices, you make, through time and bonding with the Labyrinth."

"Choices I make?" Sarah raised her brow. "You mean if I marry you?"

Jareth spun on his heel. "Breakfast is ready, and unless you want the goblins to catch you in here, I suggest you make use of the secret tunnel."

"What a cop-out," Sarah muttered, moving towards the hidden panel anyway. If Jareth heard her, he didn't say anything. She made her way back to her room just in time to see a goblin bustle in to announce breakfast. Sarah stalked off the bathroom to wash up and dress.

* * *

Jareth didn't appear for breakfast, so it was a stilted mealtime with just Sevlydi for company. Sarah took a turn around the gardens after her repaste, then headed to the library to read more about her options and her role as Queen. She didn't see Jareth all day, not even at dinner.

Sevlydi had his usual disdainful look plastered on his face as they ate, so any of Sarah's attempts at conversation fell to the wayside. Once they had finished, Sarah made her way to the ramparts. She half expected an owl to be there much like the night before, but the castle wall was devoid of any avian critters. Sarah supposed that meant she was sleeping in her own bed tonight. For an eternal being, Jareth could throw a sulk like a toddler being told "no."

Sarah hadn't been out there long before the heavens opened up. Rain was rare Underground, much to Sarah's eternal disappointment, but tonight it was bitter and cold. She spun on her heel to return to the Castle when the sight of the Labyrinth illuminated by lightning brought Sarah to a standstill. It was exquisite. Jareth stood on a higher battlement, the wind whipping his cloak and hair which seemed untouched by the rain. The lightning hit all his sharp angles and lines, reminding her very much of their very first meeting. Eventually, he turned to look at her, his face grim and unmoving, like an impeccable piece of art. Her breath caught, and her eyes widened as she took in the dark, poetic image he presented.

Jareth looked every part the Goblin King, and while it slightly unnerved Sarah, there was no denying she was also notably turned on; despite their puerile bickering earlier.

"Damn sexy, arrogant pillock," Sarah muttered under her breath. They both faced each other, both immobile, both trapped in the stare of the other. Sarah was the first to tear her eyes away, as icy rainwater ran down her spine. She swept her bedraggled hair away from her face, marching with purpose along the parapets, her tunic and cloak plastered to her wet skin. Jareth still cut the romantic, dashing figure above her, while she was a drowned rat slinking home.

Sarah cursed as she nearly slipped on the slippery, mossy rocks of the wall. A clap of thunder startled her just as a goblin darted out from a hole in the rocks. Tripping over her own feet, and the hem of her drenched cloak, Sarah gasped as she started to fall onto the hard, unforgiving ground. Jareth caught her before she made contact with the wall. His hold on her was unrelenting. She felt strangely sheltered from the rain as he snaked his arms around her, pulling her back tight against his chest.

"Am I forgiven for the asinine way I dismissed your questions earlier?" he whispered, barely audible over the storm.

"Have you apologised?" Sarah returned.

"This is me apologising," he crooned in her ear.

"What? By stopping me from falling on my face?" Sarah snorted. "A decent person would have done that without an ulterior motive."

"I am not a person, nor am I decent," his breath was a heady warmth against her ear. "But regardless, I would not have you fall onto your pretty face."

"It hardly counts as an apology then does it?"

"Sarah," he drawled, his voice sending shivers down her already trembling body. From the cold, she told herself. "I appreciate your - determination to aid me and your questions were necessary."

"Until it was one you didn't want to answer," Sarah found her hands had rested naturally atop of his ones now placed on either hip. His fingers threaded through hers, pulling her deeper into his chest.

"You are very wet, Sarah," his voice caressed her suddenly blushing cheek. "And my leg is very sore from holding you up. May I please transport you inside?"

Sarah nodded, and instantly they found themselves back in Jareth's bed chambers. Jareth let go of her, nearly pitching to the floor, before summoning his cane to regain his balance. Sarah headed straight to the panel to go and bathe and dress.

"You will be right back," Jareth said in an ambiguous tone, that Sarah could not determine if it was a question or a command. She glanced at him but didn't offer an answer. "You have yet to accept my apology, and we have training tonight."

"You have yet to apologise," Sarah laughed.

"Sarah," he took one considerable step towards her with his healthy and sound leg. "You asked questions that I was finding - strenuous in my ability to answer truthfully. I resorted to behaviour that was -un - that was ill-suited to our tenuous relationship. I regret my childish words."

"That's good enough," Sarah grinned. "You have said sorry to me before without it hurting, you know."

He smirked. "Momentary lapses of good judgement."

"So normal transmission has now resumed," Sarah scoffed.

"So apology accepted?"

"I guess," Sarah pulled her wet cloak around her shoulders, shivering despite her proximity to the fire.

"Go and get dry, Sarah," he waved his hand towards the panel door. "And when you come back maybe you can apologise to me for wishing me dead - and buried."

"I never said dead," Sarah grinned. "Just buried."

* * *

Sarah returned after a warm bath and dry night-clothes. She only hesitated for the briefest of moments before heading back to Jareth's chambers down through the dusty tunnels. She knocked and heard his resounding, "enter."

Jareth was already sitting at the fire with their hot chocolates sitting on the table between the two armchairs. She sidled into the room and sat opposite him, drying her hair with a towel.

"I can take care of that for you," Jareth suggested. "Come and sit on my lap, and I can dry your hair."

Sarah laughed but didn't move.

"Sarah, I am sorry for my childish behaviour earlier," Jareth apologised. "Now, will you come here."

"I am quite capable of drying my hair," Sarah continued to do just that. "But apology accepted."

"You are capable, but I would like to do it for you," his lips curled upwards on one side. "Please."

"Why?"

"I am trying to do something nice," he shrugged. "And I am quite fond of your long hair, and have a desire to run my fingers through it."

"I believe your second answer over your first one," Sarah responded, blithely. Before she could say anything more, she suddenly found herself transported across the room and was sitting on a cushion on the floor. Jareth sat on a footstool behind her.

"Hey," Sarah protested but didn't move away.

"Hello," Jareth said as his fingers started carding through her hair. A low moan escaped, unhindered, causing Sarah to redden furiously. She wasn't a teenager, but somehow Jareth with his sensuality that oozed from every pore, made her feel like a blushing virgin. "Your hair is just as soft and rich as I imagined it was."

"You've touched it before," Sarah pointed out.

"Not like this," his voice dipped into dark, sensual territory. Sarah shuddered from both the hair play and his tones. Without warning, he started singing in a language that Sarah did not understand. It was a slow, moving song and Sarah recognised the song after the first verse.

"The King's Lament," Sarah said wryly. "The dirge about a mopey king who misses someone that he thinks he loves, but it is merely an obsession. However, she can't hear him mourn because she left him for presumably very valid reasons."

"I did say I would sing it to you one day," his fingers did not slow in their ministrations, despite the interruption to his singing. "It was, after all, a lament I wrote for myself."

Sarah answered with a dry hum before crossing her arms. Still, she did not move away from him. Instead, she eyed her hot chocolate, hoping it would magically move closer. Sarah's mouth flopped open as the cup languidly slid across the table to stop right in arms reach.

"Your magic is manifesting," Sarah could hear the grin in his voice, his naked fingernails scraping across her scalp, most tantalisingly. She remained silent, taking her drink in two hands, sipping the sweet, hot liquid tentatively. Jareth started singing again in the incomprehensible language. Incomprehensible, but she still knew every word thanks to the Sprigetts of Cloverfield that sang it daily when she lived with them. She wondered if they missed her.

"There is a reason I chose not to sing it in the common tongue," he said upon completion. "Those words are only for the intended recipient. I purposely selected an obscure, dead language so the meaning would always be ambiguous."

"You, or rather Terry, offered to sing it to me in the common tongue," Sarah pointed out.

"Exactly."

"Well, then," Sarah grunted. "I can safely say that the girl had good reason to leave and it wasn't so much love as an obsession."

"You had a reason to leave," he agreed. "I disagree that it is merely an obsession."

Sarah cackled.

"What?" Jareth paused in his care.

"This is all too funny," Sarah grinned. "The rain is slashing the windows, but we're warm and cosy by the fire. I have a man singing to me while playing with my hair. It couldn't be more romantic, but the irony is that it is you and I."

"Why is it ironic?" he gradually started moving his fingers through her hair again. Sarah savoured every second.

"Do you honestly think we are compatible?"

"Compatible?" Jareth pondered. "No. Nothing so trite should exist between us."

"A relationship built on snark and mistrust," Sarah rolled her eyes. "Yes, that sounds far healthier than compatibility."

"I prefer to see it as adventure and passion," his hand moved down her neck, fingers tracing the smooth curve heading towards her spine. "I shall not attempt to glamour myself to fool you again, Sarah. Unless you wish for some roleplay one day."

Sarah swatted his knee. Playfully. Jareth leant down and kissed the top of her head.

"Let us go to bed," he whispered into her hair.

"Yes, let us start my magical training and education, that just happens to require a bed," Sarah said dryly.

That night Jareth encountered memories of Sarah's mother ignoring her as she cried about a favourite doll that had gone missing, and the day Sarah's mother left for her career and never returned.

Sarah woke up sobbing as she relived the memories, but she had left the dream at the time of her choosing. Jareth wiped her tears away with his thumbs, pulling her closer.

"Sarah," he whispered. "People who leave us - especially those we love - the hurt never heals. I observed healing befalls us when we discover those who will not let us go."

"I have no-one," Sarah sobbed, self-pity overcoming her usual self-possession and containment. Jareth pulled her closer still.

"You have me," he promised. "And one day you will have Toby again."

"I don't have you," she tried to push him away.

"Sarah, can I show you something?" his thumb traced her eyebrow, circling her temples, then running down the outer shell of her ear, gently pinching the ear lobe before starting back at the beginning. "Can you walk in one of my memories?"

"Why?" Sarah asked, her voice thick and her eyes stinging.

"You have opened yourself to me, so I would like to repay the favour," his hands still moving, caressingly and comfortingly across her face. Sarah conceded, and Jareth placed her hand over his heart. "We are co-monarchs. It is only right you should see how I ended up being sent to the Goblin Kingdom by my father."

"Try to keep your hand here, while I go to sleep," he instructed. "When I am asleep, will yourself to me as I taught you, and I will take you to where you need to go."

* * *

_Sarah found herself in palatial surroundings, as soon as she had followed Jareth's directions. He sat upon a marble bench, watching her, from across a pond with a large fountain dead centre. The whole place was a marble, upon marble courtyard lined with marble-walled buildings. Luscious, well-manicured greenery contrasted significantly with the stark white of the rest of the environment. Sarah headed over to join Jareth._

_He shuffled over, leaving room for Sarah to sit down next to him. As soon as she was seated, she spotted a blonde child sitting quietly with a book under one of the large, decorative trees with the trunks artistically twisted into a spiral. Sarah recognised him instantly as a younger Jareth. Her attention was swayed away from Jareth by deep adult voices. A man, blonde, tall, slender and with excruciatingly blue eyes walked through the courtyard with a shorter blonde woman, whose eyes, while also blue, were less striking._

" _My parents," Jareth muttered. "King Effistod and Queen Lilan."_

_Lilan had long flowing blonde hair with a few loose plaits woven in. Her nose and mouth matched Jareth's. Effistod had a thick braid down his back, and he shared eyes and a chin with the Goblin King. However, Sarah noticed the lack of warmth in his eyes was a striking difference between father and son. Both mother and father had an ethereal glow and impeccable clothing, and the same cold, distant look she had seen in Nudalun and Omre. Lilan betrayed a slight warmth in her eyes that Sarah noticed she tried to mask with the rest of her features._

" _Boy," bellowed the King, his voice echoing unpleasantly around the vicinity. Sarah saw another younger blond child freeze on the spot._

" _Sevlydi," Sarah whispered to herself. Jareth nodded, his face was grim, but his eyes were dancing._

" _Your Majesty?" Sevlydi bowed._

" _Nudalun tells me that you refused to bow to her this morning," Effistod towered over the young child._

" _True, sire," Sevlydi conceded._

" _That is a punishable offence," the King's voice had descended to a low, but dangerous pitch._

" _Yes, Sire."_

" _Princess Nudalun is a higher rank than you because of your age," the King reminded his son. "Furthermore, your mother is sullied with the blood of humans, so that makes you a lesser_ _ **being**_ _."_

" _Yes, sire," Sevlydi muttered. Sarah looked at Jareth's mother. Stoic and silent at the debasement of her son, and of herself._

" _Speak up, boy," his father growled._

_Yes, sire," he said more confidently._

" _You will receive notice of your punishment in due course," the King decreed._

" _That is highly ridiculous," came another voice. Jareth stood there, his book held behind his back, bravely staring his father down._

" _You dare - ?" Effistod spluttered._

" _The reason Prince Sevlydi didn't bow to Princess Nudalun this morning, was because she tripped him over with her foot," Jareth continued, unfazed. "When your eldest brother is sitting on your back, it is a bit hard to bow from the ground."_

_Sarah swallowed as she watched King Effistod's face redden in anger._

" _You lie to my face, you swine," he hissed. Jareth straightened and stuck out his chin, defiantly._

" _I speak the truth," Jareth insisted. "Prince Omre had thrashed Prince Sevlydi for no reason when Princess Nudalun entered; he could not bow as he was under the substantial weight of our half brother."_

" _Prince Omre would never act in such a disgraceful manner," Effistod spat. "He isn't a part mortal, like you two mongrels."_

" _Prince Jareth," his mother spoke up for the first time. "You forget your place."_

" _Mother, Sevlydi is being treated unreasonably by our siblings," Jareth justified. "You must see that this is not fair."_

_Sarah snuck a look at adult-Jareth, but his face remained immobile and inscrutable._

" _You will receive punishment alongside your brother for this insubordination," the King ignored his wife and child. "You both disgust me. You two, who always act the victims, are no sons of mine."_

_What followed was vituperation beyond reason. Sarah clasped her hand over her mouth, as his vitriol spewed out about his two sons with abandon. Effistod accused Jareth of being a victim several times. Jareth's mother offered no reprieve._

" _What is to be my punishment, Sire?" Jareth said, with heavy sarcasm. "Hot oil, or the rack?"_

" _You will get your punishment in due course," Effistod barked, spittle flying out of his mouth. "Like your brother."_

_The King turned away, clicking his fingers to his wife to follow him. Obediently she stepped into his wake. He had neared the entrance to one of the buildings when he spun around again._

" _You can wait for your punishment in a cell," Effistod waved his hand, and both brothers disappeared from the scene. Sarah noticed Lilan's pinched face tighten as she watched both her children imprisoned before her._

" _We were both left in that cell for three months," Jareth whispered as the view started dissolving. He grabbed her waist, and he pulled her out of the memory._

* * *

Knowing that Jareth's arms would be around her as Sarah woke, she found herself hesitating to wake up. But wake she did. Blearily, she searched his face to see Jareth's brow furrowed and his eyes still closed, but she knew he was awake.

"Three months in a cell for not bowing, and three months for standing up for your brother?" Sarah asked incredulously. "When you were both children?"

"That wasn't even the punishment," he opened his eyes, pulling her tighter to him. "After those three months, I was sent to the Goblin Kingdom to be its ruler, and Sev was ordered to come with me."

"But you were a child," Sarah tutted.

"It was always going to be the destiny for me," he sighed. "Third child as I was, I needed to be out of the way. The human in me makes me unpredictable and power-hungry. So this little offence was enough to make my destiny come a little earlier. That is all."

"All for not bowing," Sarah licked and nibbled her lips. "Surely they will not approve of me as the Goblin Queen."

"It matters not," Jareth's hand on her waist started moving in languorous circles. "You are my Kingdom's Queen, not theirs."

"But surely I fall under their jurisdiction?" Sarah queried.

"Mmmm," he closed his eyes again.

"Especially after I replaced Forsythia."

Jareth's eyes darted open again, his hands stilled. "You could never replace what was never there."

"I meant that they didn't get Forsythia as their Goblin Queen, because apparently, I am it," Sarah didn't want him to think she was talking about marrying him.

"I knew what you meant," his voice lowered a few octaves.

"I didn't mean as in marrying you," Sarah could feel the blood rushing to her cheeks. She was over thirty; it was embarrassing to blush as much as she did around him. Thank the bog it was still the greyish dark of predawn. He closed his eyes again.

"It has been a long night," Jareth yawned. "Go to sleep, and we will talk in the morning."

"Are you going to let me go to my bed?" she asked as his hands started their lazy drawing on her waist again.

"I think not," he said, smiling, eyes still firmly shut. "I find having you here with me, makes reliving that memory easier, as indubitably the same has been done for you."

"It makes you sad," she said matter-of-factly.

"Yes," he answered after a lengthy pause. "My mother just stood and let it happen. You don't just turn away from a child who needs you. I read mortal books from a very early age. I envied the family dynamics and how love was portrayed in those stories. I was sad for a time that I did not have that with my own family."

"I am sorry, Jareth," Sarah reached out and placed her hand on his chest.

"You have nothing to be sorry for," Jareth sighed. His free hand cupped hers against his chest.

"I am sorry that your parents abandoned you so carelessly," Sarah went on.

"They're fae. It is not unexpected."

"No wonder you dislike handing over the wished away children to them," Sarah muttered.

"Go to sleep, love," he mumbled, his hand stilling on her hip while his other hand still clasped hers against the silky, warm, expanse of his chest.

Love? The last time he had called her that was at the ball. While Jareth had declared his love for her, he had not been so openly affectionate with his words. Warm feelings stirred within her, and despite her self-preservation urging her to leave, she chose to stay, locked in his embrace. Eventually, sleep claimed her.

* * *

Dawn woke her from slumber still predictably wrapped in Jareth's embrace. She didn't fight it, choosing to enjoy his warmth and his intoxicating scent. Jareth still had his eyes closed, but his mouth upturned as if in a half-smile. Sarah ran her free hand, the one not in his possessive clasp, down the line of his scar across the brow and cheek-bone. Despite how well he was healing, this one remained quite deep and prominent to the touch. Sarah marvelled yet again at the lengths he took to ensure her safety. Instantly, that thought evaporated as she held on the resentment of being rescued by a male. 'Girl power,' indeed.

Sarah's hand left the trail of his scar and ventured off into his silken smooth hair. Still rugged from having been burnt off, it was nevertheless pleasing to the touch, like how she imagined clouds or fairy wings to feel. It was during her exploration of his hair that she became aware of something hot and hard throbbing against her stomach. She lifted the blankets and saw Jareth pitching a sizeable tent up against her body. Sarah flushed with embarrassment but also an intense pleasure. A mere touch was producing a bountiful effect on him, and it made Sarah feel markedly powerful. It also made her feel incredibly turned on.

"Has something of notable significance captured your interest down there, precious?"

Sarah dropped the blanket and glared at his smirking, smug face. "Nothing at all. I thought I felt something touch me, but unless it is microscopic, I can't see anything."

Jareth chuckled at her blatant lie, his cock twitching against her stomach at his movement. Sarah didn't feel proud having to resort to shaming, nor lying to cover her own guilt at having been caught. He didn't seem remotely shamed though.

"Good morning," he uttered, almost breathlessly as he pulled her closer. "I am growing quite accustomed to waking up with you in my arms."

"You still have to show me how to avoid walking altogether," Sarah yawned. "Then you don't have to teach me anymore, and subsequently your arms can find someone else to entrap."

"You're not trapped," he said simply. "You're free to leave whenever you wish. I told you that from the start."

"I don't wish," she responded, sheepishly back.

"I know," his hand shifted from her hip in a slow sensual path up her waist, her ribcage, the side of her breast, her shoulder, before settling on her cheek. His thumb stroked her jawbone as he looked through lidded eyes at her. "Thank you for your comfort last night."

"Well, seriously," Sarah huffed. "They treated you abominably and punished you unjustly."

"And I carried on the cycle with you," he closed his eyes briefly.

"You weren't as bad as them," Sarah admitted. "You look like a saint in comparison. Well - almost."

"Do not go that far," he chuckled, releasing her hand from his grasp for the first time since he had captured it. He used his now free hand to slide under her hip and pull her closer yet. Sarah used _her_ now released hand to press against his chest, feeling his heart rate increase under her palm. He was watching her studiously through half-closed eyes as he pressed his erection firmly into her stomach. Sarah found herself reacting automatically by pulling her hips closer to his. Their legs intertwined as they stared each other down.

Jareth moaned as Sarah's hand left his hair and shifted to his mouth, her thumb running across his bottom lip, her fingers curled under his jaw. Inching forward, she pressed her mouth to his lips, granting a chaste kiss. Before she could pull away entirely, he sunk his fingers into her hair, holding the back of her neck and slanting his mouth back across hers. His lips were warm and dry and felt like satin against her mouth. Both hands, one at her nape and one on her hip, gripped harder as his tongue slid across her bottom lip, prodding gently and tantalisingly at the seam of her mouth for acceptance.

Sarah hesitated briefly before flicking her tongue out to taste his. Jareth groaned into her mouth as his tongue finally found ingress. With ease and proficiency, he deepened the kiss and Sarah moaned in turn. Her hand left his jaw, hooking her arm over his shoulder, while with her other hand, still at his chest, dug her nails in. Jareth shuddered under her touch, his erection straining against her stomach. Sarah ground her pelvis into his upper thigh in response.

"Jareth, can you dismiss your whore please?" came a familiar, deep voice. Sarah immediately disengaged to face the interloper, while Jareth remained reticent and unmoved, save for one brief flicker of a scowl. Sarah instantly recognised Jareth's father. She turned back to Jareth to see him still watching her.

"Father, what are you doing in my bedroom?" his tone was calm and bored sounding.

"As much as I would enjoy watching this mortal strumpet writhe and moan, I have business to discuss with you," Effistod growled. "Get out of bed and dismiss your human harlot."

"She is not my whore," Jareth stated without turning away from Sarah. The situation had her flustered, but the last thing she was concerned with was his attempt at insulting her.

"If I am his whore, he damn well should be paying me," Sarah retaliated, producing a glint in Jareth's eyes that suggested he found some humour in her words.

"You dare talk to me," the King of Navas spluttered furiously. "If I was you, I wouldn't defy me."

"You will wait in the appropriate audience chamber, and I will meet you when I am ready," Jareth ordered, a slight bite to his tone. "You will leave off any further insults to my Queen."

"I am not going to sit around and wait while you fuck you bint," Effistod yelled. "I am your father, and I am still the king. And she is no Queen of yours."

"I presume that is what you are here to discuss, so if you could wait until we are dressed and bathed, we would appreciate it," Jareth said in a more civil tone.

"You forget your place, mongrel," he barked, but fortuitously left the room, slamming the door behind him.

"How did he get in here?" Sarah asked.

"He is King of Navas," Jareth released the grip he still had on her. "Unfortunately, he has the power to just turn up like that. Usually, he would just summon me, as he would deem it beneath him to come here."

"So you couldn't sense him?"

"Not one iota," Jareth sighed, pushing away from her to sit up. Sarah noticed a peak under the sheet still remained between his legs. "I do not look forward to the day he passes over, and Omre is the one with that power. My father is terrible, but Omre is worse."

"Surely the Labyrinth would want to defend you from him if he was malicious?" Sarah also sat up, her body flushed, her breath erratic, and her clothing damp in immodest places. She was sure her disarray hadn't escaped Jareth's notice, however. Nor the scent of their mutual arousal that lingered in the bed.

"The magic he wields to gain entry is complex," Jareth shrugged. "I suppose you are grateful for his timely intervention."

Sarah blushed, bit her lip and shook her head. Jareth returned her silent honesty with a wan smile.

"I suggest you have a bath and remain hidden in your room while he is here," Jareth threw the sheets off him. "While I deal with him."

"He seems to really loathe humans," Sarah observed.

"It won't stop him from trying to steal you from me," Jareth spat out. He swallowed and cursed under his breath as if he hadn't meant to say that. "The less attention you draw to yourself, the safer you will be."

"I am not a possession that can be stolen by anyone, Jareth," she replied as she swept her legs out of bed. "And do you think a man who clearly hates my kind would win me over so easily?"

"Oh, precious," he clutched his cane in his hand as he climbed out of bed. "He wouldn't win you. He would _**take**_ you."

Sarah saw the hatred etched into Jareth's face, and swallowed down any scathing retort she had been planning on uttering. He sighed and shuffled unevenly over to her.

"I will not let him harm my Champion," he promised, the hand not holding his cane, rested on her shoulder. "He shall not take you while I still draw breath."

* * *

Sarah was sitting in the bath moments after she had left Jareth. Her clit still throbbed with unsated desire. She wondered how far she would have gone if they hadn't been interrupted. Would she have let Jareth scratch the itch that had been building these nearly three years past? She could still feel a tingle from where his cock had pressed into her stomach. The very thought of his arousal sent ribbons of sensation shooting down her nerves and firing deep down in her core. Their kiss was deeply evocative, and as Sarah replayed it in her mind, her hand travelled slowly down her wet, soapy body.

Her fingers danced across her nipples, urging a soft moan to escape her lips. Down the smooth flat plane of her stomach, until they found her mound. Without any hesitation, she plunged a finger in between her lips, down across her clit, her eyes rolling shut as she passed her most sensitive spot before she roughly inserted her finger inside. Sarah twirled her finger around a few times before travelling back up to the bundle of nerves that was swollen and eager for her touch. She rubbed that spot slowly at first, then gradually more vigorously, until she felt herself edging an orgasm. She pictured Jareth in her mind, heard his groan, felt his hands touching her, as he had this morning and that was enough to tip her over the edge into spiralling oblivion of her climax.

Breathing hard, she opened her eyes half expecting Jareth to be sitting there in the bath watching with a self-assured look plastered on his face. He wasn't. Sarah started washing herself furiously, utterly aware that she had never come so quickly in her life, and Jareth was partially responsible.

Another thought flickered in her head as she finished up washing. Jareth was protecting her, and she had already had enough of being the damsel in distress. He had told her to stay here, but she felt the urge to defend her position as Queen, and not let Jareth take this one upon himself. She climbed out of the bath with purpose, water sluicing off her onto the tiled floor.

* * *

It didn't take long for Sarah to find the King and his son. Dressed in burgundy and black Goblin Queen armour, she marched into the dining room with her head held high. Her boots clattered across the stone floor towards where they were both seated, with Sevlydi also in tow. Jareth's look was dark but unreadable. Effistod raised a brow and gave her a lascivious grin. Sarah ignored him and went to sit next to Jareth, who coincidentally mirrored her armour.

"Oh dear," the Navas King said mockingly. "There appear to be no seats available."

He was right. As soon as Sarah had approached a chair, he had magicked them all away. She just smirked and sat rather confidently on Jareth's lap. Jareth's hand settled on her hip, squeezing it in what felt like comfort or reassurance or possessiveness. She wasn't sure, but it still felt nice.

"The true place for a common street whore but I assure you my lap is more comfortable," Effistod smirked. "Though I do not know why you are here. Dressing the part doesn't hide the stench of mortal blood."

"I dress the part because I have the part," she replied simply. Her black kohl-lined eyes and deep wine coloured lips gave her confidence, but it was the medallion nestled between her armour that sealed the deal. The look she had envisioned was 'fierce,' and Sarah definitely felt like she had achieved that look.

"Your part to play is only as a bed warmer," he dismissed her. "I am sure you play that role well, and I can not wait to taste you myself, but that is all you can be. Your uniform is nudity, not Goblin Queen armour. Your medallion should be my cum, not the crest of the Goblin Kingdom. Knowing my son and how quickly he tires of his whores, you will be wearing my own brand of necklace very soon. "

"I am Queen," she retorted confidently; Jareth's hand on her hip gave a boost to her courage. King Effistod's crass words disgusted her, but simultaneously they impelled her.

"As I was saying," Jareth addressed his father. "The goblins and the Labyrinth made her Queen. Forsythia could only have an honourary title if she chose to marry me."

"Forsythia doesn't get a choice," he barked. "You will marry Forsythia, crown her Queen, and dismiss this slag. Either I can take the mortal off your hands, or she receives a death sentence."

Effistod's eyes bored into hers as he said this. Jareth's fingers gripped tighter, and she sucked in a deep breath to remain seemingly unperturbed.

"It won't be happening," Jareth said in low, dark tones.

"No, it won't," Sarah said with sudden realisation. Whether it was self-preservation or responsibility towards her Kingdom, she knew what choice she had to make.

"Once I make a choice, Prince Sevlydi," she turned to face the silent man on her right. "The contract is binding, correct?"

"What are you talking about?" Effistod grunted.

"Yes, Your Majesty," he said pointedly, to Sarah.

"Well, then, I have made my choice," she turned around to face Jareth sitting behind her. "Jareth, I choose the contract in which I marry you. Sevlydi, please destroy the other options."

Jareth gripped her waist with both hands, his face flickering with emotion, but in the presence of his father, he remained stoic. Sarah noticed that his scar was not visible, and she frowned at this development, cataloguing it for later perusal.

"What?" Effistod bellowed. "You shall not debase our family by marrying this trollop."

"Family?" Jareth laughed scornfully. "Family do not cast out their youngest children for overlooking one genuflection. Family face dangers untold, and hardships unnumbered for each other. Family would traverse the Labyrinth to reclaim their loved ones."

"They would sacrifice their lives to ensure their family's safety," Sarah added. Jareth's thumbs stroked her back in circles at her words. Effistod glared daggers at Sarah, then Jareth.

"It is against our laws for you to marry such a creature," Effistod continued.

"No," Sevlydi intercepted. "That is a falsehood."

"Do not answer back to me, boy," Effistod yelled. Sarah had noticed that Jareth's father was all bluster and noise. Jareth always remained collected even when angry. It was a striking difference that made Jareth somewhat more terrifying.

"Sarah, I will summon your contracts," Sevlydi declared, ignoring his father. He held up his hand, and the three contracts appeared in his grip. "Are you sure about this?

"Of course she is sure," Effistod growled. "Why wouldn't a common tart want to marry a King of a Principality? She gets immortality, magic and power?"

"She is already Queen," Jareth reminded him. "She already has those three things. By marrying me, it just means you can not _attempt_ to supplant her with one of your puppets."

"What do you mean she already has access to magic and immortality?" Effistod hollered. Did he ever talk at a reasonable volume? "What have you done?"

"I have done nothing," Jareth shifted in his seat, causing Sarah to tip forward. "The Labyrinth and the Goblins chose her."

It wasn't the complete truth, and Sarah could detect it, but it seemed Effistod bought it. His grimace was fixed in place as he slammed his hands on the table.

"I will not allow this to happen."

"Sarah?" Jareth asked, at her back. "Are you sure you want to do this?"

Sarah turned from Jareth and stared Effistod down. "Yes."

Sevlydi held up her two other contracts, and before Effistod could utter another syllable, the prince dissolved them. "You will need an official ceremony, of course, but by agreeing to this contract, you have consented to be married to Jareth. This arrangement can only be broken asunder by the two parties involved."

Sarah swallowed. Sevlydi tossed a meaningful glance at his father when he spoke his last sentence. Jareth's hands squeezed her waist, as Sarah jutted her chin out defiantly, towards her future father-in-law. As soon as those other two contracts disintegrated, Sarah felt her skin erupt with goosebumps and the hair stand up on the back of her neck. Shivers travelled up her spine, while shadows appeared to be creeping around the peripheral of her vision.

"You foolish child," he stood up so briskly his chair went skidding across the floor. "You have all but declared civil war on your own Kingdom."

"And we will defend it with our lives," Jareth eased Sarah to her feet so he could stand, noticeably without his cane. Sarah felt the ground shift under her feet, her knees buckling. "Now, if you will excuse me, I have a ceremony to prepare."

"How do you think your mother will react to the news that her son has declared civil war on Navas?" Effistod asked in a rare tone that equalled his son's: low and dangerous.

Jareth laughed. "Mother would not like it, but she would not dream of defying you. She loves you more than she loves her offspring."

"And don't think I have forgotten you, boy," he turned to Sevlydi. Sarah noticed streaks of grey in his blonde braid, as he rounded on his youngest son. "Cavorting with a lesser male fae. Your summons to court is on its way. You are both disgraces who should never have been born."

"My _wife_ and I look forward to hearing from you," Jareth said with a toothy grin, pulling Sarah to his side. Sarah felt too weak to resist. Effistod strode out, banging the door wide open and scattering goblins in his wake.

Sarah turned to face her new fiance, her face paling. Jareth stood there with a condescending grin on his face, apparently ignorant of her pallor.

"War?" Sarah shook her head, barely able to process what had just happened. "I thought marrying you would secure the Goblin Kingdom and your - our - subjects, but now we have put them at risk with a - war."

"And it is glorious," Jareth chuckled darkly, rubbing his hands together. Sarah's trepidation built steadily at the ambiguous smile on his face. Images of her future walking flashed in front of her eyes. Brief glimpses of death and destruction flared around her. When she looked at Jareth, she saw his eyeless corpse in front of her. Scintillating bursts of happier scenes intertwined with the black mist that swallowed them whole. Screams and cries from unknown sources echoed around the room. Sarah's stomach roiled, her head spun, and her eyes skittered around the room, unable to settle on one scene. The prickles under her skin building and gaining speed, on the precipice of bursting through the surface.

'What have I done?' Sarah thought as she stepped back from the chaos erupting around her. Had she made the wrong choice?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I forgot to acknowledge two references last chapter. The line about not saving her life every time he fuck's up was inspired by the movie, 10 Things I Hate About You. Instead, she jokes that he can't buy her a new guitar every time he makes a mistake. He quips back about all the other instruments left to buy (great film). There was also a slight reference to Doctor Who (time and space).
> 
> For this chapter, Child-Jareth quotes from Ever After when he says, "what will it be, father? Hot oil, or the rack?"
> 
> Obviously, Jareth's father is a lot worse than the King in Ever After (such a great film - in my top 5 for sure). On the note of Jareth's father, sex work is legitimate work, and I do not hold for his name-calling and slurs thrown at Sarah. Especially, when he partakes in the business as a client himself. What a hypocrite. Also, slut-shaming is uncool.
> 
> Thank you, everyone, that has been following. So only a slice of lemon in this chapter, but it has moved Sarah forward in her feelings I think. They finally kissed. Huzzah. But of course, they had to be interrupted. Of course.
> 
> Buutttttt on the other hand Sarah has agreed to marry Jareth whether it is just to save her life and solidify her reign over her kingdom, or something deeper and more meaningful? Dun dun dun.


	21. Chapter Twenty

CHAPTER TWENTY

"Sarah?"

"Sarah?"

"Are you alright?"

Sarah collapsed on her knees as the images of her first future walking experience surrounded her.

"I have made the wrong choice," she cried out, her eyes unseeing as dark mist lapped at her peripheral. The scent of death stung her nostrils.

"No, my love," Jareth's voice, thick yet faint cut through the haze. "You made the right choice."

Jareth's face appeared in her view, and for a scintillating second, it was his regular face before it morphed into the eyeless cast of his corpse. Sarah screamed as the cadaver-Jareth reached out to her. His hand on her shoulder felt like a scorching flame.

"She is walking," she heard Jareth say, black vapour pouring out of his mouth. "Sarah, listen to me, find your magic and push the images away."

"She is walking, Jar? She obtained her magic before - "

"Some magic. Not all."

"You never said."

"Sarah, focus," Jareth's voice soothed her screaming. "Take the ball of energy inside you and centre your thoughts on me. On me, in the throne room with Sevlydi."

"Dead," Sarah mouthed. "Dead."

"We are not dead," he consoled her. "We are very much alive. Come out of the walk, my love."

Sarah blinked and just like it never happened she was back in the throne room on her hands and knees, panting heavily, and tears streaming down her cheeks.

Her vision was clouded, but she was mindful enough to realise the man crouched in front of her was a whole and hale Goblin King. She glanced up at him, and saw his unmarred, flawless face and for the second time in her history, vomited all over the throne room floor.

"You're making quite a habit of emptying your stomach contents on the floor," Sevlydi tittered. Sarah shivered, despite all the sweat coating her body. She was suddenly intensely cold. Jareth waved a hand to remove the vomit from the flagstones, his boots and her hair.

"When did she vomit on my floor?" Jareth questioned.

"Right after she landed here following your rescue of her from her kidnappers," Sevlydi answered. Sarah pushed up off the ground to sit back on her knees, so she could use her arms to wrap around her frozen body. "Any signs of torture were deception alone. A simple ruse to trick her mind into thinking they were torturing her. Gilo repelled the imaginary pain pretty efficiently with the right anecdotes. She was never at risk of real harm."

"Perceived pain or genuine pain amounts to the same thing, Sevlydi," Jareth said coolly. "At the time, I was excessively focused on other obligations to ask about her recovery."

"She was tired, but that was the extent of her infirmity," Sevylid responded, coldly. "If the situation differed significantly, I would have told you. On the one hand, your kidnappers tortured you. On the other hand, the Pinnsburrs merely duped Sarah into thinking they were torturing her. It doesn't amount to the same thing."

"Not physically, but certainly psychologically," Jareth bared his teeth. "She still felt the pain."

Sarah was only half-listening, but it did strike her as odd that Jareth had never once asked about how she had recovered after her torture. Or perceived torture. After rallying so swiftly due to Gilo's ministrations, she hadn't dwelt on that aspect of that night. She acknowledged her entire collection of thoughts had been with Jareth and his apparent death.

"Sarah, you're cold," Jareth's voice was low, yet soothing, as he finally noticed her shivering on the ground. She felt a soft, warmth envelop her and knew it was his owl blanket that she had shoved at the back of her closet shortly after he had given it to her. "Your magic is trying to manifest, and you were not ready for it. Your defences were down, so it overwhelmed you, but you are safe."

"No," Sarah choked, rocking slightly on her knees. "I made the wrong choice. I saw the future; the future you said would happen if I made the wrong choice. I can't marry you."

"It's binding," Sevlydi reminded her, sternly.

"Where is your cane, and your scars?" Sarah asked urgently. "Have you been tricking me again?"

"No, Sarah," Jareth hushed her. "The flaws were glamoured so my father would not get any satisfaction from seeing me scarred. Same with the cane. A very powerful glamour was needed to trick my father."

"Perhaps you drew too deeply on your magic, that you dipped into your wife's stores too," Sevlydi hypothesised. "Hence, how she became overwhelmed by her own magic substantiating."

"Sevlydi, could you please go and fetch some water and some food?" Jareth said through gritted teeth. Sarah, dazed as she was, could still feel the tension emanating from the two siblings. "Then I am going to take Sarah to her room for a rest. After that, fetch an elf who can officiate."

"You plan to - "

"As soon as possible, Sevlydi," Jareth declared. "Before our father has any chance to rally any action against us."

"I can't marry you," Sarah murmured, as Sevlydi stormed out. "It was the wrong choice."

"Sarah, it was the right choice," he whispered, his voice stirring her hair as he knelt beside her. "I will spend the rest of our lives proving to you it was the right choice."

"I saw the future," Sarah shook her head. "It was the wrong choice."

"You have signed the contract by dissolving the others," he placed his arm around her shoulders. "Words have power, and by declaring your choice, you have united us in marriage. We are married."

"Not yet," she sobbed.

"Yes, Sarah," Jareth countered. "Once you signed the contract, you were my wife. A ceremony makes it legal and binding, but in common understanding, we are now husband and wife. It's why your magic manifested so quickly and nearly knocked you out."

"We are not married," Sarah sniffed.

"Who knew it would be so easy to get you to marry me?" Jareth laughed. "All I needed was my father to bring out the spiteful side of you."

"We are just engaged," Sarah persisted. "Not married."

"If I had agreed to sign Forsythia's contract, we would be courting," Jareth reasoned. "Her contract was a courting contract. Then we would have signed an engagement contract half a year later. Then finally, we would sign a marriage contract, and we would be married. Granted, it usually happens at a ceremony, not while sitting on my lap arguing with my father. You, my precious, did not sign a courting or an engagement agreement, but rather the wedding agreement. So we skipped the social protocols, and went straight into marriage."

"You tricked me," Sarah said, more a question than a statement.

"No, I let you seek counsel," he reminded her. "And time was of the essence. If you dallied too long, I would have ended up married to Forsythia. So we skipped all the social etiquettes and cut to the chase. Tell me honestly, would you want me married to her?"

Sarah honestly did not want that, and she had read the contract. She knew that her choice was irrevocable and permanent. Still, she assumed there'd be a few days grace before the wedding. "No, I wouldn't want you married to Forsythia. It may have amused me at one point, but now -"

"But now?" Jareth prompted.

"It doesn't matter, because as you say, I am married to you now," Sarah pulled the owl feather blanket closer to her. "As long as there wasn't some hidden clause that I have to consummate the marriage."

Jareth grinned. "There is no bedding ceremony."

"Good."

"There are some interesting ceremonies around childbirth, though," Jareth tightened his arm around her shoulders. She was grateful for his added warmth. "But we will go through those when you haven't just collapsed from magic manifestation."

"Childbirth?" Sarah shook her head. She hadn't even considered having children before, and certainly not with Jareth. Of course, he'd want children. He was a King and needed an heir that didn't rely on the Stolen Pearl Trade. "I wasn't planning on having children."

She was unsure if he heard her because Sevlydi returned with a goblin carrying food at his heel. From the aroma, she could tell it was warm fresh bread and soup. Without warning, Jareth shifted and scooped her up. Sarah yelped, but within a few uneven strides, it was over, having placed her upon his throne. He released a crystal that transformed into a table, and the goblin placed her pumpkin soup on her tray. Sarah quickly noticed that his cane was back in his hand and supporting his weight.

"Eat," Jareth ordered. "I truthfully didn't expect the magic to substantiate so quickly. I would have warned you if I had known."

"So those scenes were just my magic?" Sarah muttered as she broke the bread in half. "Not a warning that I made the wrong choice?"

"Sarah," Jareth sighed. "I can't predict the future, but I surmise that it is not a warning, but just flashbacks to what you have already seen."

"You have not made the wrong choice," Sevlydi verified.

"But the war - " Sarah dunked her bread into the hot, creamy soup.

"Inconsequential," Sevlydi shrugged. "Effistod will not get support from the High King for a Civil war."

"Do not fret," Jareth leant in closer. "Today, we celebrate our wedded union, and tomorrow we can strategise for any war."

"The goblin spy," Sarah shook her head. "I still haven't found out who that was, and it is dangerous to have them around if we are at war."

"It was Glib," Jareth informed her. "He is in an oubliette waiting for me to decide what to do with him."

"What?" Sarah nearly upended her soup. "Why didn't I know this?"

"I am used to working by myself," Jareth admitted. "I didn't think to inform you."

"I spent ages trying to find who the culprit was," Sarah exclaimed.

"And your efforts were valuable in apprehending him," Jareth frowned. "It appears by your estimation, I am in the wrong again, and I apologise for any upset I have caused."

"Save it," Sarah returned to her meal. "Just in future remember that I am also your co-monarch and now worse still, I am your _wife_."

Jareth pinched the bridge of his nose. "It will be a learning experience for us both, I am sure."

"Hmm, yes," Sarah said through a mouthful of food. "I have been married before, still am married, technically. I think I can manage."

"Yes, but our marriage will be successful," Jareth leant it, his face mere centimetres away from her. "And you will not find me so easily led astray."

"More's the pity," Sarah shoved more bread in her mouth. She said it, but secretly her heart soared at his promise of fidelity. The idea of him touching other women, or men, made her already roiling insides recommence their turbulent industries.

"How lovely," Sevlydi clapped his hands. "You get your happily ever after, and I am going to celebrate by getting dead drunk, so I do not hear your very noisy copulating later."

Sarah flushed. Jareth grinned. Sevlydi stalked out the room cracking a smile at the married couple. Sarah returned to finishing her meal, and a goblin whisked it away almost before her last bite. Jareth then approached her on the throne.

"I think it is time for you to have a rest," he suggested. "Are you able to walk?"

"Yes," Sarah answered without thought. Pride comes before a fall, as Sarah went to take one shaky step and toppled down the dais. "Fuck."

Jareth tutted, but was helping her back up in an instant. "I should have caught you."

"You have caught me enough," Sarah recalled the rainy night on the castle walls. "I can walk."

"I will carry you," he offered. "It's like being married to two people; you and your pride."

"Well, same for me," Sarah inhaled sharply at his slight against her. "You and your ego."

"We all benefit from my ego, none of us benefit from your pride," he said, a sliver of amusement on his scarred face. The glamour must have faded, as the scar was prominent under his ragged fringe.

"Well, if my pride is such a large issue, don't break your back, trying to carry me," she resisted the temptation to poke her tongue out at him. "Should you be bearing so much weight on your bad leg?"

Jareth reached over and tucked one arm behind her back, and the other under her legs. "If I could move the stars, I am sure I can move you and your pride."

He picked her up, and they transported from the spot into his chambers. The fire was roaring, and the drapes were all closed. Sarah was aware that it was still the middle of the day, but from the room's appearance, it felt like night.

"This is your room now," he said as he sat her down on the edge of his bed. "But because I am so magnanimous, I will allow you to keep your suite. All I ask is that you enter your room via my room, so the staff and goblins do not suspect you of anything unsavoury in the early days of our marriage."

"Unsavoury?" Sarah appreciated still having her own rooms. That was unexpected.

"While it is common for married royal faes to take lovers, it is distasteful to do so as a newlywed," he shrugged.

"Ah," Sarah found all their rules peculiar, but she wasn't planning on taking a lover. What options did she have? Sevlydi, who was gay and in love. The rest of the inhabitants of the castle were goblins, and while there were human employees, she had yet to meet them. Apparently, they mostly worked in the outer-gardens, stables, vineyards and orchards; places she hadn't spent much time. Aside from goblins and the humans she hadn't met, the only other inhabitants capable of speech were her trio of friends. Naturally, that left zero prospects open to her. "Maybe I will get lucky and meet another Terry in the future."

Jareth quirked a brow. "I have run you- a bath."

Sarah raised her brows at the similar cadence of his words to, ' _I have brought you a gift.'_

"It feels decadent in the middle of the day," Sarah shrugged off the owl blanket.

"You have just opened a channel of magic, and what's more, you are Queen," Jareth scolded. "If you chose to have a bath, naked on the roof during a full moon, while a flock of fairies sang to you, your wish would be my command."

"I would never desire such a thing," Sarah scoffed. "It wouldn't need to be a full moon at all. That is ridiculous."

Jareth's mouth twitched. Sarah decided she liked it when Jareth smiled; a genuine smile at any rate. Those shrewd smirks she could quite willingly skirt. "This crystal will transport you to the bath when you are ready?"

"What?" Sarah cocked her brow. "Not going to suggest that it is your marital duty to undress and bathe me?"

"All you have to do is ask, and I will provide," Jareth said with a shallow bow. Sarah's cheeks filled with crimson. "It would be my pleasure, I assure you."

"The crystal is fine," she mumbled. "Thank you."

The idea of him undressing her and bathing her was enticing, but also excruciatingly embarrassing. As much as the idea appealed, she could not bypass her pride to ask. Even without the heavy sexual connotations, she was more after his company than anything. She didn't feel like being left alone.

"I will wait right here for you if you change your mind," he said, no trace of humour on his visage or in his tone. "Squeeze the crystal when you want to return here."

Sarah took the crystal from his outstretched hand, their fingers brushing. Sparks flew between them.

"That's just my magic recognising your magic," he explained before she asked. "It will dull over time, from my reading on the subject."

Sarah nodded and squeezed the crystal, disappearing from his room. She was deposited naked in his bath. The same bath that she had ended up in before the ball. She rolled her eyes but set about washing her body and hair despite her shaky limbs. When she finished, she eyed the crystal suspiciously. If she squeezed it, would she end up in his bed naked? The water was nearly cold by the time she quit deliberating. Inhaling through her nose, she squeezed it, landing back on his bed, fully dressed in a nightgown. Exhaling through her mouth, she fell back on his bed.

"Perhaps lie back on the pillows, rather than the edge," Jareth's voice suggested. By now, Sarah was too exhausted to move, so she stayed put. Jareth grunted, shifting her up the bed and under the covers. Sarah flicked her eyes open.

"How do I stop dream-walking?" Sarah asked. "I am too tired to be emotionally pulled apart."

"For now, I can offer you a dream," he suggested. "A pleasant one. It will help block your intrinsic walking ability until you have mastered it yourself."

Sarah mumbled her assent, drifting off as Jareth curled his body around hers. "Sleep well, my precious wife."

* * *

"Sarah," She was aware of his voice before she was aware of where she was. She spun in the direction of his voice as the scene unfolded around her. It was utterly breathtaking. The sun was setting, throwing purples, oranges and reds across the sky and mirrored in a lake, surrounded by mountains that pierced the clouds, sending rays of sunset streaming to the sky. Where Sarah stood was a beach of rocks and stones in shades of green and grey, contrasting with the warmth of the sinking sun. On the opposite bank, in the shadows of the peaks, a forest grew; its mirror image aflame in the lake's reflection.

"We're Aboveground," Sarah breathed. "I know this place."

"We are not Aboveground," he corrected. "This is just a dreamscape."

"But I know this place," she frowned. A flicker of a memory; a postcard on the fridge, a broken promise, eventually framed and placed on her dresser. "My mom's postcard."

Her mother had sent her a postcard after she had moved out and had travelled overseas. On the back, Linda had promised her a trip to this beautiful lake, and Sarah, the child that she was, naively believed her. It never happened, but here she was standing on the shore of the mountainside lake from her Mother's promise; even if it was just a dream.

"How did you know?" Sarah asked, unable to tear her eyes away from the scenery.

"I can show you your dreams," Jareth reminded her.

"When you say, 'I can show you your dreams,' what you're really saying is, here they are, you can look at them, but you can't touch them," Sarah said with a smirk. "Like if I were to say, 'I can show you my hand', it isn't the same as I can give you my hand. See -"

She waved her hand in front of Jareth's face. "I can show you my hand..."

"Stop waving that thing in my face."

Sarah laughed and waved her hand faster. "Look I'm showing you my hand, do you want it?"

Quick as lightning, Jareth's hand clamped around her wrist, stopping her waving in an instant. He leaned forward and pulled her hand closer to his face at the same time.

He planted a soft kiss on her palm, then with his eyes pinned on her, he licked her hand languidly and tantalisingly, setting all her nerves in her hand aflame.

"I can show you your dreams, sweet Sarah," he said huskily, teeth nipping at the soft flesh of her palm. "But yes, I can give them to you too."

Sarah freed her hand from his lips. "What if my dream was to throw you into that stone-cold lake?"

Jareth looked down his nose at her. They stared at each other, the sounds of the lake lapping against the pebbles as their only ambience. Jareth snorted and turned away. Sarah conceded that she had won and was about to gracefully thank him for bringing her here when he started unbuttoning his jacket.

"What are you doing?"

"It is physically impossible for you to throw me," he shucked his boots off. "But I am capable of compromise. I will throw myself into the frigid water."

"Why are you taking your clothes off?" Sarah had looked away back across the lake.

"I do not want to get them wet," he had taken everything off, save for his trousers.

"This wasn't part of my dream," Sarah squawked.

"That's your compromise, _wife_ ," the way he said 'wife' sent thrills through her. She quickly realised she was yet again gawking at Jareth as he undid his shirt. She cleared her throat and walked down the water's edge. Dipping her hand into the water, she ascertained that it was cold but not as freezing as it looked.

"It's a dream," Jareth called from behind her. "So I warmed it up."

"I feel like that is cheating," Sarah kept her eyes on the sun's rays shimmering across the peaks.

"I only warmed it up for you, my love," he said from directly behind her shoulder, reminiscent of their first encounter on the hill above the Labyrinth. "I didn't want you to freeze."

"I am not going in," she stuck her hands petulantly on her hips.

"Oh, yes you are," he said as he walked past her. Sarah squeaked, seeing him strut past stark naked. Sarah chose to push her attention down the length of the beach, rather than watching him wade nakedly into the lake; the reflection of his bum painted on the water's surface. Sarah shoved her hands under her armpits and walked along the water's edge, kicking stones with her slippered toes. "Sarah, join me."

"No," Sarah sat down on a boulder, thankful Jareth was fully submerged under the lake's water.

"I will turn around, and you will take off your clothes and join me," he said, his voice demanding, but blended with humour. Sarah slipped off her socks and slippers, dipping her toes in. The water, sufficiently warm, was tempting her to go for a swim. But skinny dipping with Jareth? He glanced at her, pointy teeth on display, before he turned around. Shit, was she really even considering this? It was only a dream, and there were no other souls around. With a sigh, she slipped out of her nightdress and waded into the water, surprised at just how warm it was. Even the wind that blew lightly was heated.

Jareth still had his back to her, and playfulness was starting to overcome her. She cut through the water as quietly as she could, knowing he would hear her, regardless. There could be no element of surprise when dealing with a fae, but she was willing to give it her best shot. When she drew close enough, she dived under the water and propelled herself towards Jareth. The water was fresh and not salt, so her eyes did not sting, and she was able to keep them open as she directed her strokes towards him. Angling her body, she swooped between his legs, planting her shoulders firmly into the back of his thighs, her hands grabbed his calves, and digging her feet into the pebble lakebed, she shoved up with all her might, tossing Jareth backwards into the lake. She tried not to think of the glimpses she caught of his privates.

When she surfaced, Sarah had expected an angry Jareth to greet her, but he was laughing. Wet, bedraggled, but howling with laughter

"You let me do that, didn't you?" Sarah crossed her arms across her chest.

"Of course," he wrinkled his nose, exposing the tips of his canines. "Your dream was to throw me into the lake, so I granted your wish. There would be no way for you to outmanoeuvre me while you are still mostly mortal."

"Mostly mortal?" Sarah queried, keeping her body hidden in the water's depths.

"Your magic will continue to substantiate over time, and you will gain the skills and characteristics of the fae," he explained, wading closer. "Until then, you have no chance of catching me unawares."

"It was a hollow victory then," Sarah mumbled.

"Not quite how I imagined you between my legs," he winked, closing the gap.

"You're not limping,' Sarah observed.

"Why would I give myself a limp in a dream?" Jareth reached up and pushed her wet hair behind her ear.

"Good point," she pulled her arms across her chest tighter. Jareth's hand stayed upon her cheek. "Why are you standing so close?"

"This is my dream too," his other hand snaked under the water and found her hip.

"And what exactly are you hoping for, Jareth?" Sarah asked, her mouth dry.

"Just the pleasure of your company," he pulled her closer, her elbows digging into his chest. "We could play some more games, or we could dance. Whatever you wish."

"Hold me," Sarah loosened her arms, and wend them around his waist, placing her head on his chest. Jareth obliged, releasing her face and sliding his hand down her back, resting just above the curve of her buttocks. Sarah heard his voice rumble as he started singing. It was a slow, sweet song that Sarah was sure in a soothing language. It distracted her from their naked bodies pressing up against each other, and the evidence of Jareth's arousal poking into her thigh.

"What are you singing?" Sarah asked when he finished.

"It is the Moon, late in the night," his hand brought her chin off his chest, tilting it up to look at him. "It is the Sun. Stay with me forever."

"I have no choice," Sarah's fingers traced patterns on his hip as they swayed. "I am your wife, remember?"

"You left your previous husband," he pointed out.

"Do you blame me?"

"Not at all," he sighed. "I have never been so uncertain in my life, but everything about you confounds me. Including why you are here with me now, naked in the dying of the sun. Will you be with me for every moon, and sun, or will you spread your wings at the first opportunity?"

"You have self-doubt," Sarah quizzed.

"Only in regards to you," he planted a warm kiss on the top of her head. "That's what makes you precious. You moved me in a way that no magic could ever hope to."

"I am here now," Sarah paced her cheek back up against his chest.

"You are."

He sang another song. This one sounded more melancholy. Before she had a chance to ask, he told her, "this is a song for you for the loss of your parents."

He translated the lyrics for her. It was the chorus that stood out for her. "Weeping due to the great loneliness; the tears, sorrowfully. Asleep in the quiet green grave; in a deep peace."

"Thank you," Sarah placed a kiss on the open expanse of his chest. Jareth hummed, in response, tugging her body even tighter to his.

"What the Pinnsburrs did to your family, is unforgivable," he said, letting her go. Sarah instinctively brought her arms up to cover her breasts. "You are starting to wake."

"How do you know?" Sarah watched as Jareth pushed through the water back to the shore. He looked over his shoulder to her.

"You're starting to fade," he gestured to the dulling of the environment around them. Sarah had assumed it was the twilight rising with the setting of the sun. "Come, sit with me upon the shore while we leave this dream behind."

She followed, suddenly less self-conscious of her nudity as she joined him next to water's edge. He supplied a rug to sit on and held his hand out to her. She took his hand, and he guided her to sit between his peaked legs on the mat. He wrapped his arm around her, his hand just under the swell of her breasts, watching the last rays of the sun strive for freedom from the beckoning night. His other hand started a journey on her hip and across the top of her thigh. His mouth startled her as he pressed it against her shoulder.

"By the Gods, Sarah," he rasped. "You are the most beautiful creature."

"If I am waking up, this might not be such a good idea," Sarah let out a moan as he trailed hot, open-mouthed kisses against the skin of her neck and shoulders.

"You taste as good as you smell, Precious," his fingers dug into her ribs with one hand, and his other started exploring the soft skin of her inner thigh. Sarah was alive with arousal, and her nerves were firing on all cylinders just from his touch. A thrill ran through her as she felt his cock twitch against her spine. That she brought such a man to this level of desire, empowered her.

"You are very talented," Sarah hissed as Jareth's teeth slid across her tender flesh. "You weren't wrong about people falling at your feet, and never having to court anyone. I can see why you are a self-professed seducer."

Jareth instantly pulled back. "Is that what you think this is?"

"Hmmm?" Sarah was too lost in the desire coursing through her body to notice Jareth's tone and tension.

"Do you still think that I am only interested in your seduction and conquest?"

"Am I supposed to think differently?" Sarah shivered. The warmth of the dream slipped away, replaced by a chill breeze, and her breath was now visible in the crisp air.

"Yes," his hands curled into fists. "What I have done out of boredom, privilege and sheer loneliness in the past, is in the past. Sarah, you value monogamy, and I value you. So I am yours, and yours alone."

Sarah's hands, which up until now had been lying protectively in her lap, reached out, touching his thighs. Jareth stiffened, and his muscles in his legs twitched as she stroked him. His hands rested on top of her hands, entwining his fingers with hers.

"Eternity is a long time," Sarah could barely see anything now. The sound of the waves lapping at the pebbles still remained audible, but night swallowed the scene, deepened by the fade of her growing consciousness. "Mark couldn't even last a few years before he cheated on me."

"I am not Mark," he growled, nipping at her ear lobe. "And he is a fool. How could he have possibly found someone more beautiful than you?"

"Because relationships are not all about beauty," Sarah's vision was starting to get fuzzy. Jareth had resumed kissing along her shoulders and neck, but they felt less real and more dreamlike in the paling light. "They take work, commitment, respect - "

"I was talking about everything you are," his tongue flitted out to taste her skin, sparks of pleasure raced down her spine. "Not just the beauty that is visible, though you are a delectable creature."

"Jareth?"

"Mmm?"

"Why does it offend you when I mention your free and easy - 'bonk anything' behaviour when it is in your kind's nature?" Sarah asked. "It feels like me getting insulted if you remind me of the inevitability of mortal ageing."

"Because - my darling wife - I may have been free and easy," he paused, to squeeze her fingers and plant a kiss on her hairline at the nape of her neck. "I may have 'bonked' anything, but I have never been in a relationship as you call it. So while committed to 'bonking' someone, I wasn't simultaneously bonking someone else."

"What about the druid?" Sarah leaned her head back against his chest.

"It wasn't long enough to be considered a relationship," he answered, resting his chin on her head. "You're waking now. Maybe when you have your magic in full, I can take you back here, and we can enjoy this for real."

"That would be nice," Sarah felt sleepy, and she was getting sleepier still until she was fast asleep against his chest.

* * *

Sarah was awake again in her reality, curled into the foetal position with Jareth wrapped around her. Both clothed, unlike their shared dream. She stretched out, timidly exploring each muscle as she worked out if she was still weak. Surprisingly, she felt much better. Stronger, pain-free, and raring to go. She rolled over as much as she could in the cage of his arms. He was wide awake and watching her through slitted eyes.

"How do you feel?" he was gentle; concerned.

"Much better," she grinned sheepishly. "Who knew skinny dipping in another plane of existence was so healing?"

"Who knew?" he cuddled up closer. "I could get quite used to waking up with my arms around my wife."

"Teach me how to block my subconscious from sending me walking," she stipulated. "I am starting to think you are willingly not teaching me so you can keep me in your bed."

"Would I do such a dastardly thing?" his thumb moved over her cheek.

"I am not even going to dignify that with a response," Sarah yawned and stretched.

"I have had food sent up," he waved towards the table and chairs by the fireplace. "Eat, and then we will go and make our marriage official."

"That still confuses me," she unfurled herself from him and the bedsheets.

"If someone dies, they are dead but do you not still need to have a death certificate to make it official in your world?"

"Yeah," Sarah agreed, supposing he was right.

"The ceremony is just the formal bit," he concluded.

"The last time I got married, we had two hundred guests, most of whom I never spoke to again," Sarah mused as she sat down in front of the fire to eat. "Everything was so meticulous, thanks to the help of my mother-in-law. Even Karen wasn't so pedantic about wedding planning. It was a complete nightmare. I just wanted to marry the man I loved with a few friends and family, not great aunt Agatha who I have never met, and never will again. It was a fucking fairy tale wedding. Fourteen-year-old me would have loved it. The Sarah of my twenties wished that it wasn't such a circus. I should have been more firm about what I wanted, instead of letting Mark's mother run rough-shod over me."

"Well, you finally get what you wished for," Jareth grinned as he buttered some bread. "A small wedding, a handful of friends and family, and no Great Aunt Agatha. And at least you're marrying someone more attractive and intelligent than _Mark_."

Sarah snorted into her teacup, especially at the disdainful way he said Mark's name. "Jealous of Mark, are we?"

"I have no reason to be jealous," Jareth corrected. "Unless your admission that you _love_ him when he is a philandering ignoramus, is reason enough for me to be jealous."

Sarah's teacup stalled on its journey towards her mouth. It was one thing, for Jareth to admit he loves her, it was quite another to admit she loved him. Yes, she was marrying him, but it was for the good of her kingdom. Wasn't it?

"He is a philandering ignoramus," Sarah conceded at last. "And I thought I loved him. I won't be making that mistake again, in a hurry."

A scowl flitted across Jareth's features. "So you're content to let that parasite of a husband devour all the love from you? My, my, I supposed you to be a winner, Sarah, not someone resigned to failure."

"I left him," Sarah returned his scowl; his words jarring. "I won in the end."

"Did you?" scorn carved Jareth's face. "You won't open yourself up to the prospect of love. It sounds like he won."

"What would you know about it?" Sarah lashed out. "You have admitted to never being in a relationship, so you have never had your heart torn asunder, and you do not know what it is like to have the person you love, constantly breaking your trust."

Jareth didn't say anything immediately. His blue eyes had narrowed and were now flinty and cold. He opened his mouth, but no words came out. Instead, he stood up and walked towards his door.

"I expect you in the throne room at sundown," he said over his shoulder. "I suggest you wear the gown that is on your bed. Don't be late."

And with that, he left her stewing in his chambers.

* * *

Jareth was angry. Angry at Sarah, but mostly he was furious at himself. On his wedding day, he chose to prod the sleeping dragon of unrequited love. He wasn't fool enough to think anger would tempt her to throw a declaration at him, but she was driving him crazy. She had accepted his marriage contract. They were married, were sleeping side by side, and they had even kissed, but she was still holding him at arm's length. He was blindsided by her rush to accept the marriage contract, and their steady and blossoming friendship, to remember that while he had declared his love for her, she did not return those feelings. Mark would never have died for her, of this much he was sure. Mark wouldn't have gone to the lengths he had to deceive her, either. Not that Sarah would ever see that as a point in his favour.

He may not have had his heart crushed because he had never given his heart freely before. Only Sarah had his heart in safekeeping, though she seemed determined to drive a chisel in and shatter it piece by piece. He still had encountered pain at her expense: her first refusal of him, the thirteen-year gap when he couldn't even see, talk to or go to her, the fact she got married to someone else, the two years she avoided him when they lived in the same kingdom, her hatred of him when they reacquainted, preferring Terry over him, and now her refusal to give him any hope that she could love him.

Jareth acknowledged he could be held responsible for some of those items. He certainly had been the one that brought Terry into her life. But she didn't have to be so pig-headed. He loved her, damn it.

"What has she done now?" Sevlydi asked as he saw Jareth pacing up and down the corridor outside the library.

"Sev, I envy you," Jareth turned to his brother. "You and Rica both love each other and admit it freely."

"But we can not see each other or be together unless I break his heart and marry someone else," Sevlydi reminded him.

"She is just so stubborn, Sev," he growled. "We can be together and legally, but Sarah still denies that she will ever feel anything more than friendship for me."

"Perhaps she needs time," Sevlydi considered. "She has, at least, married you."

"Under duress," Jareth placed his head in his hands. "I don't think there is anything I can do to make her love me."

"You have her in your power now," Sevlydi slurred. Was he drunk? Jareth looked closer at his brother, seeing red-rimmed eyes and a slight stagger with his walk. "You won."

"It feels like a hollow victory," Jareth looked again at his brother. "Are you drunk?"

"I am just celebrating my brother's nuptials," Sevlydi grinned. "As he gets married and I have to face court for my forbidden love."

"Sev-"

"No, don't," Sevlydi growled. "You do not get to lecture me on how I handle my heartbreak. You haven't experienced the agony."

Since when did Sevlydi concur with Sarah? Did no-one take his plight to win Sarah seriously but him?

"You wrote a song about your heartache for a girl who you didn't truly love, not really," Sevlydi continued lecturing. "She was a means to an end; someone you could have power over- an impressionable mortal. And you didn't have to work to woo her, because it was pre-destined. You didn't have to stray from your given narrative that everything you want falls at your fucking feet. Well, forgive us mere lesser beings who put the effort in, and expect effort back within a relationship."

"I sacrificed my life for her," Jareth hissed.

"Yes, so you keep reminding us," Sevlydi hissed back. "So you played the hero for once in your life and not the villain - but don't you think Sarah deserves more than to be loved by someone she is merely grateful to?"

Jareth looked into the visage of his brother, seeing his sincerity, despite the lack of sobriety. He had made some apologies to Sarah but never to his brother. He took a deep breath in. "Sevlydi, I am sorry that I have been preoccupied with my own issues and failed to help you with your upcoming trial."

"Father sent word to the High Court," Sevlydi took a swig from a bottle that materialised in his hand. "They have found Rica, and have him in custody. You worry that you may have to work to get Sarah to love you. I fret that my father will execute my lover. I will drink to your health, brother, but sod your apology."

Sevlydi sauntered off, swigging at the bottle. Jareth fell to his knees in the hallway as his reality came crashing around his ears. Sarah was safe and officially his wife. His brother was about to lose his heart. His priorities had to change for now. He had an eternity to woo his wife and make her forget the hurts Mark had inflicted, but he couldn't reclaim Rica from death.

* * *

As irritated as Sarah was with Jareth, she did find her way to the throne room in time, wearing the gown he had set aside for her. If you could call it a dress - it was a strappy silver and black garment that scarcely left anything to the imagination.

Sarah's heels clicked across the stone of the deserted throne room. Maybe, Jareth had decided he didn't want to marry her after all. Her stomach plunged into a whirlpool at the thought. For some inexplicable reason, the idea of not being his wife seemed offensive to her insides. Shoving that abhorrent thought aside, she sidled up to the throne, perching on the edge of the seat.

The minutes ticked by as she waited for him, or someone. Not even a stray goblin was in sight. She sighed. Perhaps she should summon someone to ask. She stood up and was greeted by Jareth striding in, his face reminiscent of the Jareth from the collapsing Escher Room in their final confrontation.

"You're late," Sarah crowed, taking the moral high ground.

"I am," he tapped his cane on the flagstones, impatiently. "Sevlydi received a summons to court, and he is in a bit of a state."

"Oh," Sarah lowered her head in remorse. "We can always postpone - "

"No," Jareth hobbled gracefully towards her. "You shan't get out of this that easily."

"I wasn't implying -" Sarah shook her head to dispel any traitorous words that she was about to utter. "I don't know what I am saying or doing, nor what the protocol for this wedding is-"

"The elf will tell you what to say, and then you say it," he shrugged. "I opted for a mundane ceremony, not a courtly ceremony in front of the entire council. It is not like this marriage is sanctioned by them anyway, so there is no protocol."

Sarah made an assenting noise with her tongue.

"You look remarkable by the way," Jareth shifted closer to her. "I couldn't be prouder to call someone my wife."

Sarah took in his matching silver attire. Skin-tight black trousers with silver thread and twisting patterns running down the length of his legs. High heeled boots; black with silver swirls reaching down from the shaft of the boot to the vamp. His shirt was black, again with silver detailing. His vest silver, his hair tied up with silver, his markings black with silver, his gloves silver and his medallion -

"You're wearing your medallion," Sarah said out loud.

"The goblins finally finished it," his silver gloved hand reached up and touched his pendant, the mirror image of hers. "Just in time for our wedding night."

Sarah blanched.

"I meant because it is night time," Jareth corrected his misstep. "The innuendo was not intended, but however, it could be."

"Shall we go and get this over with?" Sarah gestured towards the door.

"Before we do," Jareth held out his hand to her. "I just want to reassure you that, despite my declaration of my feelings towards you, there is no pressure for you to feel the same."

Jareth frowned as he finished, belying the possible battle against his nature that he was waging.

"Let us just go and make this official," Sarah gestured between the two of them. "Let's go claim my death certificate."

Jareth looked askew at her before he recollected that it was his analogy she was throwing back at him. She didn't mean it to sound so hurtful, but she could see in his eyes that it had hit the mark. When had she got so good at reading his usually cold and indifferent expressions? When had she got so good at being cruel?

"Cruel, Precious," he muttered as he followed her out the Throne room. "But you do not know where you are going, so perhaps you could just stay with me and talk before I guide you to the wedding site."

"What do you want to say?"

"I just want to acknowledge that your reasons for marrying me are noble and just," Jareth licked his lips with the tip of his tongue as he seemed to struggle with what to say next. "The reasons I want to marry you do not match up with yours, and I just want you to know there is no pressure to make it so. And I appreciate the sacrifices you are making to be the Goblin Queen, but also the Queen Matrimonial."

"I am not making any sacrifices," Sarah put her hands on her hips in defiance of his words. "I had a marriage for love, that didn't work out. I sacrificed a lot in that marriage. I vowed I'd never get married again, but my motivation is different this time around. Nothing will change between you and me just because I am wedded to you. It's just a piece of paper. I didn't _lose_ anything I hadn't already lost before I married you."

Publicly, Sarah knew, they would have to put on a front. She felt that was the only thing that would change, aside from her magic and the security of her position. Her motivations for this wedding were her own and not that of Jareth's. No-one was forcing her to be married, and she went into it with open eyes, but a closed heart. They would continue as they were; married in name alone.

Jareth nodded. "Perhaps we should have come up with the parameters of what our marriage entailed before this point."

"What do you mean?"

"I wanted a wife," his eyes closed. "Not just in name."

"Well, you got me," Sarah indicated her person. "And we _are_ married just in name. That's the deal we agreed to."

"I know," he bared his teeth. It wasn't a threatening baring of his fangs, but more defensive than anything. "But I just hope that one day you would get more out of our unity than just the benefits to the Kingdom."

"Are you suggesting that you care about my happiness upon entering a marriage with you?"

"Of course," he frowned. "I am selfish - "

"And spoilt," Sarah added.

"And spoilt," he levelled a pointed look at her. "And selfishly, I want you to be happy."

"That's the opposite of selfish," Sarah laughed. "Wanting someone else's happiness is not selfish."

"It is when you have entangled your happiness in mine," he stated. "It is when the only one I want to make you happy is me, and me alone."

"Yeah, I guess that counts as selfish," Sarah rolled her eyes.

"My happiness suffers when you are unhappy," Jareth continued. "So selfishly I do not want you feeling afflicted with sorrow, because I do not want those associated feelings."

"I get it," Sarah whined. "Now, can we go?"

Jareth seemed to forget his current mood, placing both hands behind his back, and with a smug grin, turned to her and said, "quite impatient to get married to me, aren't you?"

"We are already married."

"Just so," he grinned. "So why the hurry?"

"It's inevitable so let's just get it over with," she groaned, resisting the urge to stomp her feet in impatience.

"You just do not want to talk about your feelings," Jareth narrowed his eyes at her. "It makes you feel uncomfortable."

"What happened to 'there is no pressure'?" Sarah asked, her hands back firmly on her hips. Jareth was extra mercurial today.

Jareth tilted his head to the side. "I said that, didn't I?"

"Yeah, and what's said is said," Sarah reminded him, mocking his deep baritone.

Jareth's leer was almost unbearable. "I would very much like to get married to you now."

"Good, let's go," Sarah ushered him towards the door.

"Take my arm, my lovely wife," he held out his free arm to her. "We are not getting married in the castle."

* * *

They were getting married in a moonlit glade. The sun had set, and they were nowhere that Sarah recognised.

"We're not in Kansas now, Toto," Sarah quoted The Wizard of Oz in a whisper.

"Who is Toto?" Jareth asked as he held Sarah's hand firmly in the crook of his elbow.

"A dog," Sarah muttered. "From a film."

Floating candles illuminated the glade, revealing a range of creatures gathered in the trees. Not far off, Sarah could hear a cascading waterfall against the backdrop of chirping crickets. Despite moving into nighttime, the air was warm and pleasantly fragranced reminiscent of hot summer evenings where her father would be mowing the lawn, and her mother would be singing in the kitchen, while she curled up on the swing-seat reading a book. Merlin would be curled at her feet, or chasing the lawnmower.

Waves of nostalgia hit her as she took in the scene. A stone plinth stood dead centre in front of a rocky outcrop. Inset into this stone wall was a cave entrance, lit dimly by torches heading down a slope, and around a bend. Behind the plinth stood an elf, holding a book clasped casually in both hands.

"Does it suit, My Lady?" came the yappy, familiar voice of Sir Didymus. The fox terrier stood at the threshold of the glade, in black and silver finery. His dog Ambrosius sat quietly, panting, behind him.

"It is beautiful," Sarah fought the urge to weep as her sentimentality ate away at her. "Thank you, Sir Didymus."

"My Lady," he gave a low bow, sweeping his hat off his head in respect. Sarah swallowed the lump forming in her throat. It was all ridiculous. She was already married to him. There was no need to romanticise the ceremony. Jareth urged her down the path between people, trees and goblins to the plinth.

Sarah recognised Hoggle and Ludo instantly and was surprised that Jareth had bothered to invite them. Likewise, the Spriggets were there, including the youngest, Peggy, who waved wildly at her. Sevlydi lifted his goblet as she glanced his way, already quite sloshed by the looks of things. There was a temptation to join him. None of Jareth's other family members was present, which came as no surprise. But what did come as a surprise was Forsythia.

Sarah's overactive imagination flew to the possibility that she was there as a further plot of the Goblin King. Win her over again, but then "surprise"; suddenly he was married to Forsythia to punish her. She took a deep, steadying breath. It wouldn't pay to become paranoid in front of an audience.

"What is your ex-fiance doing here?" Sarah hissed through the corner of her mouth. She watched Jareth turn lackadaisically in the direction of the blonde female. Forsythia remained neutral and indifferent.

"I invited her," he said simply. Sarah felt her stomach drop out.

"Why?"

"Because she should see how a real Queen compels a King to marry her," he gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. Sarah released the breath she didn't know she was holding. By this stage, they had arrived at the plinth. The elf nodded to them both.

"Briyash," Jareth greeted the elf. "This is my wife, Sarah."

Sarah's eyes nearly bugged out of their sockets. So this was the infamous Briyash; the keeper of pearls and the elf who instigated this entire thing. She had so many questions, like "why?" She chose to nod at him instead.

"Ah," Briyash said as he looked into her face. "You are the Pearl Bride."

Sarah made a non-committal noise at the back of her throat.

"She is," Jareth smiled down on her. "And we request that you witness our nuptials."

"Granted," he said without ceremony. "Have you got the pearl?"

Sarah reached up and retrieved the pearl from her elaborate hairstyle. She had no pockets, and it seemed best to keep it on her person. Briyash beamed as he cast his eyes over the inoffensive gem in her palm.

"Would you both place it between your fingertips?" Briyash asked, opening the book he held. Sarah and Jareth simultaneously held the pearl, between their index fingers, their thumbs gently touching each other. He started reading from the book in a language she assumed was Elfish. He droned on as the pearl glowed between them.

He then asked that Jareth repeat after him, "I acknowledge Sarah Hi'Live as my wife, mate and ally."

"I acknowledge Sarah Hi'Live as my wife, mate and ally," Jareth repeated, turning to Sarah with a smile. Sarah levelled a frosty smile in return. She couldn't shake the feeling Jareth's act of inviting Forsythia was a cruel way to gloat and punish the fae. Her parents and relatives had manipulated for years to marry Jareth. Sarah felt pity for her, notwithstanding Forsythia's manner towards her.

Briyash read out the words Sarah had to say, "I acknowledge Jareth De Škriatok as my husband, mate and ally."

Sarah flatly intoned her line. It was so much easier affirming her marriage when she didn't have to declare it out loud. Cheers went up through the glade, so Sarah assumed it was over. Maybe now she could join Sevlydi in his drinking.

"I now invite you to walk together through the Moonstone Cave," Briyash gestured to the cave opening behind her as the pearl stopped glowing. Jareth balanced the pearl on his fingers, so Sarah reclaimed her hand. He spun it across his fingertips, weaving in and out of each digit before he placed it in his pocket. Of course, he'd have convenient pockets, while she wore something resembling a second skin more than actual clothing.

"Wait," Sarah was more than a little puzzled. "What?"

"It is the custom for upper echelon fae and elves, that request the Bridal Pearl to likewise pick a Moonstone," Briyash smiled, before adding, "It is mostly symbolic."

"Symbolic of what exactly?" Sarah queried.

"Love," he answered simply. "The bridal pearl denotes who you marry; the moonstone symbolises who you love."

Sarah looked longingly towards Sevlydi's alcohol. Jareth cleared his throat, "we should go."

"Is there really any point?" Sarah hissed.

"Of course not," Briyash chirped up, wagging his grey beard, so it swept the pine needles at his feet. "You already know who you love, so as I said, it is merely symbolic."

Sarah's cheeks were a darker hue in an instant. She mumbled in defeat, "let's go then."

Jareth held his hand out for her. They followed the elf down the pine needle laden path to the cave, Jareth pausing to wave to his subjects. The cavern was illuminated well with the torches, but the trail was rocky and uneven. Thankfully, every time she tripped, Jareth caught her in his arm, despite his reliance on his cane.

"My love, you should watch your feet," he said pleasantly.

"You should watch your mouth," Sarah muttered as she stumbled yet again.

"Are you troubled by the discovery that your destiny is to love me?" Jareth whispered a frisson ran through her at his warm breath scuttering across her skin. Traitorous body.

"I just think all these prophecies take away free will and self-determination," Sarah justified her reluctance to be here. Knowing it was mostly not wanting to confront her feelings, or discover that perhaps she wasn't destined to love her husband. She didn't know which was worse.

"It doesn't, though," Jareth explicated. "To say it predicts love is a bit simplistic. But it's more accurate to say a moonstone guides your passions and energies towards the one you love. I was a sceptical as you once but I have done some reading."

"Does the stone shout out the name of your future love, or how does it work?"

"I believe the stones just match one another in shape and hue," Jareth guided Sarah from tripping yet again. She thanked him with a nod. "It is unlikely bridal pearls would pair a couple that had two different moonstones."

"Yet, here we are," Sarah pointed out. "You seem confident, but I bet there will be no matching moonstones tonight."

"I wager a kiss," he grinned, the flickering torch light glinting off his sharp canines. "I wager that we will match."

"Deal," Sarah struck her hand out to shake his. "I wager we will not match, and we will not kiss if I am right."

Sarah could feel the heat of his hand even through his gloves as they shook on it. "Would you like a peppermint to freshen your breath for when you owe me a kiss?"

Sarah shoved his shoulder with her free hand. "How did the bridal pearl match you up to me anyway?"

"I didn't know how it would reveal my future wife," Jareth said. "It is different for everyone. But when we had our first dance, there were strings of pearls all through the ballroom, that weren't normally there. And the pearls you wore were the distinct shade as our pearl."

"So if you had never tried to slow me down with that fucking peach, you would have never known it was me," Sarah sighed.

"The magic would have shown him in another way," Lord Briyash who had remained silent up until this point, chimed in. "It always finds a way."

"The pearl was a helpful tool, but I didn't need it to tell me who to marry nor love," he whispered so only she could hear.

"So you shouldn't need a moonstone either," Sarah pointed out as they came to a halt in front of a font.

"I don't," he declared. "But you do."

Briyash cleared his throat and gestured to the font. "Who wishes to go first?"

"I will," Jareth said. He dipped his hand into the font and came up with a teardrop-shaped purple moonstone. He showed it to Sarah and then gestured to the font for her to take her turn. Sarah sighed, again, and stepped up to the font. Inside there was a mist resembling water swirling around its depths. She stuck her hand in and felt something land in her hand. Instantly she closed her fist and pulled it out. Jareth and Briyash watched her expectantly.

Sarah dropped her eyes to her closed fist, about to open it when a whinny distracted them all. Standing where they had just come from was the most stunning cream coloured unicorn. Its mane and tail were iridescent shades of purple and green, and its horn was abalone shell coloured. The presence of such a magnificent creature stunned them all to silence. Even Briyash, who looked like he was old enough to contain all the wisdom of Jareth's library, was flabbergasted.

"Virescent and amethyst unicorn," Briyash breathed.

"I am not a virgin," Sarah didn't realise she had said it out loud. Jareth levelled a look of disbelief at her outburst.

"You do not need to be a maiden to see her," Jareth said sharply. "Just incredibly lucky."

"Is she -"

"I am the one who bequeathed Jareth, Lord of the Labyrinth and King of the Goblins, and Sarah, Hi'Live of the Labyrinth and Queen of the Goblins a single Tear of Pearl," came a voice in her head as she stared at the unicorn.

"Jareth, did you hear-"

'Yes, my love," Jareth moved to her side. She kept the moonstone fisted in her hand.

"Give her back the pearl," Sarah whispered in his ear.

"You wish to return my gift?" the unicorn asked, soundlessly.

"It was stolen from you-"

"The fae stole most of them," the unicorn interrupted. "This one was given by me."

"We are married now," Sarah said confidently. "The gift has served its purpose."

"And if you should ever lose each other again, you shall now have your moonstones to find one another," the unicorn declared. Sarah could feel the shape of the moonstone in her palm and suspected the creature was right. Her stomach plummeted - in despair or joy, she could not tell. The unicorn continued, "I accept your kindness, Hi'Live."

Jareth reached into his pocket and gave Sarah the pearl. She carefully took it in her hand, still hiding the moonstone in the other and approached the unicorn. On the palm of her hand, she offered the pearl to the magical creature.

"Thank you, Hi'Live," the unicorn's melodious voice said in her mind. The pearl evaporated from her hand, before she spoke again, "You give freely, and without agenda."

Turning to Jareth, the unicorn continued to talk in her mind. "Jareth de Škriatok, Hi'Live is worthy. But you were wrong that her epithet meant Champion. It meant The Curse Breaker."

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Acknowledgements: The first song Jareth sings to Sarah is by Enya ~Deireadh an Tuath. It is a translation from Irish Gaelic into English. The second one about death is also by Enya ~ Smaointe, also translated from Irish Gaelic into English. There are lots of Enya songs that give off Labyrinth vibes. One is even called 'Less than a Pearl.'
> 
> "Less than a pearl in the sea of stars,  
> We are a lost island in the shadows."
> 
> Jareth's last name is simply goblin in Slovak.
> 
> Thank you to my readers, and those that have shared my story on WIPT in LFFL. That's huge and I am always honoured.


	22. Chapter Twenty-One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Smut warning ;) Rating upgraded to Explicit.

CHAPTER TWENTY ONE

Sarah was happily drunk. Sevlydi sat with her in the shadow of a tree drinking such copious amounts of wine that their livers would surely protest about it for the rest of their natural lives. Sarah had many reasons to drink since leaving the cave. For one thing, she had just seen a unicorn and had a conversation with it. Learning in the process that this mythical entity condoned the bride-pearl that was imposed upon her by Jareth. Why this encounter disturbed her more than matrimony to a magical man, was beyond her.

Sarah was aware that something momentous had happened; no big bangs or magical clouds of glitter, but the reverential silence that everyone slipped into after she had returned the pearl, was clue enough. Being referred to as Curse-breaker by the unicorn was also a dead giveaway that this wasn't some trifling event. It was the silence that was the most consequential sign. Even Jareth lowered his head in a manner that she would describe as 'demure' if Jareth could even display such an affectation.

After that, the unicorn disappeared into the ether, making Sarah believe she had imagined it all; if it wasn't for the silent, grave faces of the two men staring back at her. By the time the three humanoids left the caves, the moonstones had been long forgotten by them. Sarah was grateful as she had seen the shape and colour of her moonstone. And that was reason number two for pickling her liver.

It was the same shape as Jareth's moonstone; the same colour. Sarah had slipped the moonstone down the front of her dress at the first opportunity, postponing any thoughts about love to the wayside. Except it could never completely get pushed to the side, and that led on to reason number three for abusing her internal organs. Forsythia!

Groups of different beings were milling around throughout the glade, talking, singing and dancing, initiating a celebratory ambience. Forsythia was one of the principal people to approach them with well-wishings after they left the cave. The discarded-bride didn't acknowledge Sarah, but rather Forsythia flung her arms around Jareth's shoulders. Jareth's manner was still reserved since the unicorn's visit. He gave a look of surprise before his arms coiled around Forsythia's hips, cane included.

"Sythia," he crooned as he held her, "I am so pleased you made it to my wedding."

"Jareth, dear," she simpered, "I understand why you had to marry the mortal, but now you are free to—"

"He is not free," Sarah answered with a thunderous look on her face that she was sure to regret. "Especially, not to do anything with you."

"Now, now, Sarah," he said, smirking, "play nice."

Sarah cleared her throat and smiled beatifically. "Of course, my dear _husband_."

Her tone, heavy with sarcasm, when all she felt like doing was kicking him where it hurts, wasn't lost on either of them. Jareth's lips twitched, Forsythia scowled, and Sarah rolled her eyes. She didn't know what game Jareth was playing, but she was going to find Sevlydi and get drunk. Was he baiting her into jealousy by embracing Forsythia? But before she could move, Jareth had released Forsythia and clamped Sarah to his side, instead. Now he no longer had Forsythia propping him up he whisked out his cane to support his weight.

"My wife is correct," he purred. "I am not free. And even if I was released, you won't be my choice of field to plough."

Forsythia tittered, unperturbed. Sarah tracked Forsythia's hand as it stroked up and down Jareth's arm, while she said in a sultry voice, "my parents aren't here, so you do not need to put this show on for their benefit."

"I would never do anything for their benefit," Jareth said, picking her hand off his arm and releasing it swiftly. "I do not perform for their sake, nor yours. As you can see, my wife has claimed me."

Sarah couldn't hide the shock flittering across her face. Perhaps giving into her possessiveness had played her hand too openly. He seemed oddly satisfied.

"I find mortals unsavoury, but if she has to come too, I guess I can accept that," Forsythia said, glancing at Sarah before batting her eyes at Jareth. Did she just suggest a threesome? After a heavy pause, Forsythia added, "I haven't had much experience with females, but I am sure you could teach me."

"Pass," Sarah said, breaking free of Jareth's grasp and shuffling away from him in the direction of other well-wishers, namely her friends.

"I am sure she would be very easy to satisfy," Forsythia went on. "Mortals are so easy to enthral, so it shouldn't be hard to seduce and fulfil. They're so sensitive after all."

Sarah's interest was piqued. She wondered if fae were quite hard to satisfy, carnally. The thought had never occurred to her, and she questioned if she'd be up to the task. Then she wondered why on earth she was thinking about having sex with Jareth. He never seemed that far from arousal around her, so how Herculean a task could it be to get him off? She screamed, internally, at herself for letting those thoughts enter her mind.

"Sarah is no easy conquest." Jareth pinned her with his look as she sidled away from him. "But we will not be taking you up on that offer, Sythia. Sarah is mine."

Sarah scoffed before moving away towards a gathering of her friends.

"And I am hers," he said from right behind her, having followed directly. His arms coiled around her waist. "Tell me I am yours, Sarah."

"I know there must be a bottle of wine around here with my name on it"—Sarah looked from side to side—"if I find it, then I belong to that bottle of wine."

"Cruel."

It wasn't long until reason number four to get sloshed and forgo internal organs, rose its head. They had moved on to accept the congratulations of many other groups of creatures and people. Sarah received their congratulations with polite smiles. When they were eventually alone, Jareth snaked his arms around her waist from behind. Sarah could feel the chill metal of his cane against her hipbone.

"You were jealous of Forsythia," he whispered in her ear. "Admit it."

"I was not." Sarah tried to bat him away.

"Prove it." He pulled her spine flush against his body. "At your mortal weddings, it is customary to kiss the bride. You have not offered me a kiss, so that will be my deal. You say you're not jealous of Sythia, kiss me to make me believe it. If you don't kiss me, it will prove you are jealous."

"What on earth kind of deal is that?" Sarah laughed.

"You won't kiss me just because of custom, but you might out of pride," he said as she turned to look at him. The tip of Jareth's tongue poked through his sharp teeth. His nose wrinkling in mischief. "So what is it, admit you were jealous and sacrifice your pride, or give me a kiss?"

"And what if I wanted to give you a kiss, though?" Sarah placed one hand on her hip and waited for his response. When his eyes lit up, and his lips twitched, Sarah had to qualify with, "because it wouldn't prove I _**wasn't**_ jealous of Forsythia, and you would never really know the truth."

"Do you think the truth will matter if I was kissing you?" Jareth laughed. "Nothing would matter during that moment."

"Ew"—Sarah wrinkled her nose—"Sappy."

"So are you jealous, or not?" he asked, his breath dancing across her neck as he spoke.

"I feel like I am back at those doors with the playing card guards." Sarah rubbed her brow. "I may lose either way."

"Alph and Ralph, dearest," he mumbled into her neck. "So crass— forgetting names."

Sarah elbowed him lightly. "Promise me the earth won't open up and swallow me whole with either choice I make. I am not sure I could handle being groped by a shaft of hands tonight."

Jareth's hand tightened on her waist, sending bolts of desire straight to her core. "The only hands that will touch you tonight are _mine_."

"So about the ground opening up...?" Sarah probed.

"I promise the only consequence of admitting you were jealous of Forsythia is merciless teasing, and the only consequence of kissing me is your utmost pleasure." He nipped lightly at the tender skin at the juncture of her throat. "It's not a tough decision."

"No, it's a piece of cake," Sarah answered mockingly, as Jareth thrust his pelvis roughly into her bottom in retaliation. Her breath hitched.

"Careful, Precious." His hand started making swirling patterns on her hip, while he dug the cane into her other side. Sarah tried to suppress the moan, but it escaped loudly, making Jareth chuckle deeply against her throat.

Sarah spun around so suddenly it nearly knocked Jareth off his feet. She grabbed the lapels of his jacket, pulling him closer to her. Slanting her head, Sarah went for Jareth's lips before either of them came to their senses. She rammed her body into the hard planes of his, still clasping his coat. Their mouths met forcibly. She closed her eyes, giving in to the sensations of his smooth lips, and his hot tongue as they wrestled for dominance with each other. It was so unlike their first kiss, which had been sweet and teasing. This one was wild and hungry. Sarah's head spun at the sweet taste of his velvety lips, sucking on her lips. It was sugary, with a hint of lemon, like he had just sipped a sweet lemon tea or nibbled a lemon cake, but it seemed like it was his natural taste too.

Jareth brought her back to earth as his grip tightened, and he moaned into her mouth. Sarah pulled back to see a very affected face peering back at her. They both panted and trembled, but it was his eyes, dark and wide that startled her the most. Sarah took a deep breath and fixed a wobbly smile on her face.

"Piece of cake," she said, her voice thick, her legs shaky. She spun on her heel and made her way into the thicket to find Sevlydi and his alcohol. It didn't take her long as she could practically smell him before she could see him.

That was where she was now, counting her valid reasons for drinking heavily, and listening to Sevlydi wax lyrical about Rica. She hadn't seen Jareth since they kissed, except as he drifted through the trees talking to his guests. Sarah knew she ought to be talking to the Spriggets or her friends, but except for Helena, she didn't think anyone would understand her decision to marry the King. Her wedding day didn't seem like the right day to justify it. So wine was the answer, and she took another swig. It helped numb her lips that burned from their kiss.

"Why does he have to be so bangable?" Sarah complained to Sevlydi when he let up about Rica. "He is so smug, but his bottom is perfect. And he is fucking good kisser. Which sucks."

"I don't really want to discuss my brother in those terms," Sevlydi slurred back. Sarah laughed. Sevlydi laughed in return. Before they knew it they were both in fits of giggles. When they were both rolling around giggling in the leaf litter, Jareth happened upon them.

"Here's the perfect smug bottom now," Sarah snorted, from her prone position. Sevlydi hooted with laughter.

"Sarah, are you drunk?"

"No, I am as sober"—Sarah pushed off the ground— "as you are humble."

"Do you forget that you are Queen?"

"How can I forget with this yoke around my neck?" Sarah huffed, pointing at her pendant.

"We are in front of all our guests and citizens," Jareth reminded her sternly. He turned to his brother. "And you're not much better."

"Lighten up, Jar." Sevlydi shook his bottle at the King.

"Sir Jidymus," Sarah howled as she spotted Sir Didymus approaching.

"Sarah," Jareth growled with a warning tone. "You know that is not his name."

"I may be a little bit tipsy and struggling with the letter d," Sarah admitted. "Can you give me your d, Jareth?"

Sevlydi snorted, and that set the two of them off again. Sarah collapsed back into the leaves. Tears leaked out of Sarah's eyes at the sharp look on Jareth's face. Sir Didymus gave a low bow before Jareth waved him off.

"So austere," she scolded. "King Jareth of the Goblins, I did not know you were a member of the Temperance League."

"I am a member of royalty"—Jareth placed his hand on his hip—"And so are you, so please comport yourself as one."

Sarah yawned and heaved her inebriated body off the ground a second time. "I didn't drink at my first wedding, so I am making up for the lost time."

"You have been neglecting your guests," he scolded. Sarah frowned at Jareth with consternation and pursed lips, having assumed Jareth was more fun than this. The look on his face, belied his statement, making Sarah think he was more concerned that she had been neglecting _him_. The phrase 'marriage of convenience' was on the tip of her tongue when she suddenly recalled their passionate kiss. Was he upset that she had bolted after their embrace?

"You know," Sarah began unsteadily, "I can think of many factions that would not be happy that we are married, so perhaps it is best I avoid them."

"You are referring to, of course, that imbecilic dwarf," Jareth inferred. Sarah didn't answer him but started walking unevenly away from him.

"Where are you going?"

"To face my best friend and his judgment," Sarah said over her shoulder.

* * *

"What did you have to go and do a thing like that for?" Sarah was right: Hoggle wasn't happy.

"I have my reasons." Sarah sniffed. She couldn't quite remember what they were when she was drunk. "Let's go dance."

Sarah led a very reluctant dwarf to the clearing where the guests were all dancing to the Celtic inspired music. A man that she hadn't seen before—but was identifiably human—was dancing nearby, offered a smile at her. Sarah returned his smile. Perhaps he was laughing at her and Hoggle's attempt to shuffle in time to the harmony.

"Congratulations on becoming the new Goblin Queen," he said to her, over the loud refrain. His brown eyes twinkled in the flickering lights of the torches. Sarah noticed that he was a well-dressed individual donning a periwinkle blue shirt under a white vest and grey pants. He had long dark brown hair, tied up but resting over one shoulder. He wasn't clean-shaven, which gave him a rugged, masculine look.

"Thank you" —she nodded—"I have been the Queen for a while."

"Tonight, surely makes it official," he clarified.

"It makes my marriage official," she corrected. "It changes nothing about my Queenship."

"May I have the honour of a dance?" he asked, his eyes glinting and shining.

The dwarf seemed grateful to be released, so she accepted the man's offer. Hoggle scuttled off into the trees. The dance only involved holding hands, so she was quite comfortable that this was not inappropriate.

"I am Nate by the way," he said as he took her hands. They were warm but lacking in that spark she had become accustomed to whenever Jareth took her hands in his. Sarah recalled the last dance like this where Jareth had been wrapped from head to toe in other women at the Twilight Festival. She wondered how he would feel seeing her dancing with another man; on their wedding day. She was too drunk to feel guilty.

After all, he had flirted rather cruelly with Forsythia.

Nate was talking, but Sarah wasn't listening as her focus had fallen on Jareth standing at the edge of the dancers, a grim look on his face. Sarah laughed at whatever Nate was saying, though she couldn't care less. She suddenly wanted Jareth's arms around her, but his cane caught her eye. He couldn't dance, not with all twirling and spinning called for by the music. It was too fast-paced. She remained dancing with Nate until the music ebbed into a slower pace.

"I must go see my husband," she offered as an explanation, before heading straight to Jareth.

"I see you met Nathanial," Jareth said in the way of a greeting. "He was to be your second-in-charge if you had taken on the embassy role. But after he danced so openly with my wife, while I can not, I will give him a new role."

"Let me guess, he will now be the ambassador to the Bog of Eternal Stench." Sarah rolled her eyes.

"Something like that," Jareth muttered, while Sarah snorted in derision.

"Come"—Sarah held her hand out to him—"dance with me."

"I do not want your pity-dance." Jareth's eyes hardened.

"Oh," Sarah huffed, "why? Is it not fair?"

Jareth narrowed his eyes but shrugged it off. "Lead me to the dance then, wife."

Sarah tugged on his hand until they were in the thick of the dancers, She wrapped her arms around his waist, and he placed one of his hands on her shoulder as they swayed together.

"Why do you want to dance with me?"

Sarah was lost in a drunken haze and Jareth's scent as she lay her head against his chest, almost not hearing his question. "Hmm?"

"Why, after drinking so heavily, do you suddenly want to dance with me?"

"You're my husband, and it is traditional to dance at a wedding."

"When did you give a bog's damn about tradition?" There was a slightly mocking tone to his voice. "You certainly didn't want to kiss me."

"I kissed you," Sarah hissed back, "because I had no jealousy to admit. Can you say the same about me dancing with Nate?"

"I am not ashamed of feeling jealousy when my wife is dancing and laughing in the arms of a man that has two functioning legs," he replied. Sarah glanced down at his leg, and then the cane he was using to guide his steps in their dance.

"You think that I care about that?" Sarah scoffed. "I care that you used Forsythia to try and get a reaction out of me. And I care that you tried to manipulate me into kissing you. Twice. But I do not care if you have one functioning leg, or two, Jareth. I am sure it doesn't stop you from putting your foot in your mouth."

Sarah recalled that the first kiss was meant to be a wager on the moonstone. She cursed herself for having brought up both instances of his manipulation, lest he demand payment for the first wager.

"I wasn't using Forsythia to gain anything from you," he said, with a hearty sigh. "Fae flirt and old habits die hard, as you mortals are fond of saying. I was flirting out of habit."

"Yet, a single dance with a male has warranted this coldness from you," Sarah bit back. "Perhaps I dance with men out of habit."

"It's a bit different when I love you and you—"

Sarah didn't want him to finish his sentence, so for the second time that night, she launched herself at him, kissing his words right out of his mouth. Jareth was stunned so did not react straight away, but gradually his fingers clenched her shoulder harder, and his tongue pushed past the defence of her tongue to score entry into her mouth. Again, he tasted of only the finest honeyed fruits and sweets, making her thirst for more. But before she could truly settle in and enjoy his taste, he pushed her away.

"You are far too drunk, Sarah," he admonished. "You taste of stale wine."

Sarah frowned and released him. "I think it is time you take me home, Goblin King."

"I think that is wise," he said. "I will say a farewell speech as you are in no condition to do it."

Sarah narrowed her eyes at his retreating back, but let him lead her to the forefront of their guests.

* * *

Sarah had woken up with a hangover in her own room, devoid of any walking incidents during the night. Maybe copious amounts of alcohol were enough to block unwanted night time travelling. Perhaps Sarah didn't require Jareth to learn how to use the magic after all. She tried sitting up but lay back down with a groan. Or maybe not. The price was a splitting headache and nausea. She realised she was still in her wedding dress. This realisation woke her up, as she shoved her hand down the front of her dress to retrieve the moonstone. Thankfully the gem was still nestled between the fine layers of her dress.

With a huff, she managed to secret the offending stone into a gap in the brickwork, behind a tapestry.

"You have a lot to answer for," she scolded the stone. "If you had been a different shape, I would not have relied so heavily on alcohol to forget about you."

The remainder of the morning crawled in a blur of bathing, vomitus, and frequent urination. After what passed as a hangover meal, Sarah ventured through the tunnel towards Jareth's room. She knew she had to enter and leave his room to keep up appearances, but she was hoping it was so late in the day that he wouldn't be present.

It didn't help that Jareth had removed her door by magic. She had only to wonder how she even made it back to her room last night. The last thing she remembered was Jareth saying a farewell speech, to jeers and innuendo from the crowd, then she woke up in her own bed.

After everything that transpired the day before, especially the two kisses, she was reluctant to face Jareth. She came to the end of the tunnel and inched the door open, listening for any sign of life through the gap. Finding none, she creaked open the panel further and slid through.

"Ah, there is my wife," Jareth said brightly, from an armchair. He was reading a book, with his legs crossed and looking over the rim of his glasses. Had she woken up in some alternative universe where Jareth needed glasses?

"Ah, there is my husband," Sarah croaked through a dry throat.

"Sleep well?"

"Unsure." She shrugged and moved to head out of the room.

"I have postponed our wedding breakfast because of your incapacity," he declared. "It is rather generous of me."

"Your bounty and magnificence know no bounds," Sarah said, saluting him and continuing to the door.

"Indeed." Jareth returned to his book. Sarah exhaled violently through her mouth and left through the door. She instantly wished she stayed in the relative sanctuary of Jareth's room. Scores of goblins lined the corridors cheering and shouting, the sound clamouring against her brain. Sarah paled at the sight of so many rambunctious critters congratulating her, and she slid back inside Jareth's rooms slamming the door.

"Ah, yes," Jareth said without looking up, "I should have warned you about that."

"Fuck you, Jareth." Sarah stalked back towards the door.

"Well, you know what I would say to that idea." Jareth winked.

"You'd say, I wouldn't fuck you if you were the last smelly breathed, hapless mortal on this planet or the next," Sarah retorted petulantly, yesterday's kiss still dwelling in her mind.

"Wishful thinking on your part, I am sure." Jareth turned a page in his book.

"I am going back to bed," Sarah grumbled, as she threw open the panel, "and that is not an invitation."

"Of course not." Jareth turned another page, making her think he wasn't reading at all. "Who would want to fuck a foul-mouthed and foul-breathed hapless mortal?"

"No idea," Sarah muttered, trying to ignore the tears that were threatening to fall at his words.

"I don't want to fuck you, Sarah," he said, as she went over the threshold of the tunnel, "I want to make love to you."

"Urghhh," Sarah slammed the door and went down the tunnel back to her room.

* * *

The days trickled by slowly after their wedding; they kept their conversations light and civil, which was draining in of itself. They mostly focussed on royal duties and writing up their wedding announcement to send to other royal families. They included Jareth's family, even though Jareth suspected Forsythia would have told them they were married by now.

They resumed her magical education, concentrating principally on effectively preventing dream-walking now that Sarah was more confident in how to end and leave the episodes. After their training, Sarah refused to stay in his bed and saw the night out in her bed, alone. She didn't spare much time thinking about Jareth's feelings on her departures.

Things had become more complicated since she knew the shape of her moonstone matched his. Her denial became more pronounced.

They had, however, moved on to other areas of magic, and Sarah was learning new skills all the time. Her favourite was she could now open and shut doors without touching them. It made it easier to traverse the castle as she carried stacks of books or parchments.

"What are you reading?" Jareth had appeared out of nowhere, sitting across from her at the large oak table. They were in the library, and Sarah had been studying alone for hours in blissful silence.

"I am reading about how I could rescue Toby as no one else seems to be helping," Sarah answered without looking up.

Jareth grunted in response. "When you had your rather juvenile tantrum the day after our wedding, I happened to be reading that particular book. I am still working out how we could go to him."

Sarah lowered the book and looked at him. "Truly?"

"Truly," he responded. "The past few days have been...fraught, but I am still going to try and keep my promises."

"It was only fraught because—"

"You kissed me twice without meaning it." Jareth arched his brows, his lips twitching downwards.

"Why on earth would I kiss you _and_ mean it?" Sarah shook her head, confused.

Jareth sighed. "So shall we call a truce?"

"I didn't know we were fighting."

"You keep lashing me with your barbed tongue," Jareth pointed out. "More than usual, or you seem intent on avoiding me altogether. There has been no middle ground."

"Everything feels normal to me," Sarah lied. She couldn't really blurt out that her moonstone decreed they should be in love and she was starting to believe it, making her feel even more awkward around her husband. Sarah resolved to keep her secret from Jareth. Admitting to love was akin to defeat, and she wasn't ready to submit. Love shouldn't be predestined.

"If you are willing to make up for your abhorrent kissing, then you are more than welcome to do so." Jareth patted his knee in invitation.

"Abhorrent?"

"The first one was tolerable, but the second one you were drunk." Jareth leant back in his chair. "And you meant neither of them."

"This old chestnut." Sarah threw her book down but instantly regretted it. Books deserved respect. She whispered to the book, "sorry, book."

"Did you just apologise to the book?"

"Yes."

"I see." Jareth crossed his leg over the other and looked away.

"You didn't have to marry me, you know," Sarah reminded him sternly.

"My father would have killed you if you didn't consent to marry me," Jareth mocked, airily. "It was in your best interest to agree."

"Perhaps you should have found someone that you didn't find so taxing to kiss," Sarah jibed.

"You have kissed me and meant it before, Sarah," Jareth said mildly. "Remember, in my bed before my father interrupted us."

"What of it?"

"Perhaps I asked too much to be kissed like that again at our wedding." Jareth shifted in his seat. Sarah ran her finger along the spine of the book she had been reading. He continued, "I can tell when you mean it and when you don't because you already gifted me with a kiss you meant."

"You set conditions on the first kiss of that night." Sarah threw her hands up. "What did you expect me to do? Lie or kiss you?"

"The lie was the kiss," Jareth retorted sharply. "I didn't intend to hurt you by my interactions with Forsythia, but you can't even admit you were jealous. You would rather lie to me with a kiss."

"And how does that make you feel, Jareth?" Sarah asked snarkily.

Jareth sat in thorny silence. His eyes narrowed, and his lips drawn into a thin line. Sarah stared him down, but when he still remained tight-lipped, she flicked her eyes away.

"It feels perplexing and hurtful," he said, his tone lacking the acerbic tints with which Sarah attacked Jareth.

"Can you see how trapping me in a dead-end, wounds you too?" Sarah asked, the barbs removed.

Jareth sighed. "I should not have manipulated you into kissing me."

"You're forgiven."

"So generous." He gave a wry smile. They lapsed back into silence, less stilted than it had been.

"Why did you get so drunk at our wedding?" He looked back at her, his expression softer. "I know you didn't want to marry me, and it is purely a political choice, but surely, we can establish that we are friends? We don't always need to be at odds."

"I had a whole list of reasons," Sarah muttered. "Not all of them have to do with you."

"Am I to be privy to my offences?"

"Aside from orchestrating the kiss, there was also the fact you invited Forsythia, flirted with her, and then handled her so cruelly." Sarah wasn't going to mention the unicorn. She didn't want to suggest or steer the conversation towards the moonstones, or the now absent pearl. Sarah found she had started to miss the pearl she had carried with her for weeks.

"Forsythia," Jareth spat her name out, "would sooner see you dead, than be kind to you. Do not pity her for receiving cruelty from me."

"Why did you invite her?"

"I told you"—Jareth balled his gloved hand into a fist—"she needed to witness my marriage to you so that she can not refute it, and neither can her parents, her relatives, or my wretched family."

"She seemed to think we would be open to a threesome." Sarah laughed.

"And like I said" —Jareth cleared his throat— "she is wrong in that assumption because I am not sharing myself with anyone but you."

Sarah smiled. "At least I know you won't ever shag my best friend as my ex did. I can't see you and Hoggle—"

"Do not go any further with that thought, Sarah mine." Jareth visibly shuddered. "You, my exquisitely barbed Queen, have my fealty, completely and utterly."

"Have you had any more thoughts about how to tackle the Mark situation?"

"I want to tackle the Toby situation first," Jareth replied instantly.

"Surely, the red book is more critical?"

"Your ex-husband had no children?"

"No."

"Then while it is urgent, I would rather focus on Toby as he has been in an awful situation for far longer." Jareth uncrossed his legs and stretched them out in front of him. "Your husb— your ex-husband is unlikely to wish a child away if he doesn't have one."

"What will you do if we can retrieve Toby?"

"House him here, of course." Jareth waved his hand to indicate the castle. "If that is agreeable to you? And him."

"Of course." Sarah sniffed, tears threatening to fall. Jareth rose, walking around the chair towards her. He knelt by her chair, taking her hands in his.

"I wanted to find him as my wedding present to you"— he rubbed his thumbs across the back of her hands— "but all I seem to have done is drive you to drink and then be surly with me for days."

"I haven't got you anything," Sarah said by way of dismissal.

"You got me the greatest gift I could have asked for." He leaned in and kissed the palms of her hands. "You said yes to marrying me. _Me_ , your adversary."

"Jareth, I admit to feeling some jealousy of Forsythia." She closed her eyes so she could imagine she was talking to herself. "You may be an arrogant twat, but you are my arrogant twat. I would very much like your friendship, but you know that is all I can give you right now."

"Sarah, I take what little bit of hope you can give me." He tenderly kissed her wrists. "I keep promising you time then I keep applying pressure. I want your love so much it is excruciating. I will endeavour to be patient, my Precious thing."

Sarah released one of her hands, then ran it through his hair that was now almost back to its original length. "We may be two steps forward, three steps back for a while longer yet, Jareth."

"I know, my love." He closed his eyes to the pleasure of her ministrations. "I will be with you every step of the way forward, and the way back, and the way forward yet again."

* * *

Sarah shuffled down the dusty corridor and pushed open the door to enter his room. She did it slowly and gently, as she didn't want to wake Jareth if he was asleep and frighten him. Though, being a fae, he may not have the same kind of nervous system as her. She felt the best approach was with consideration, nevertheless. She closed it behind her and crept around the screen in the darkness.

Only the light of the moon spilling through the open curtains guided her towards Jareth's bed. As it came in sight, she suddenly gasped, spinning away. Jareth was sprawled nude from flyaway hair to naked toe, his hand furiously pumping his cock, his hips arching as he worked. She heard her name uttered from his lips in shuddering gasps.

Furiously hot and flaming, she tried to exit the room through the secret panel, but in her embarrassment, walked straight into the privacy screen.

"Sarah?" came Jareth's voice, laborious after his exertions.

"Jareth, I am so sorry," she muttered, as she straightened the screen in haste. "I should have knocked."

She heard him moving in a manner that suggested he was climbing out of bed. Sarah cringed before she darted through the panel back to her room. He was faster than her however and was directly behind her before she had taken more than two steps.

"Sarah!" His voice was both pleading, and stern. "You are my wife, and you do not have to knock. Please come back and tell me what you want, because you would never have come into my chambers, without a solid reason."

Sarah turned around. He held a crystal that illuminated the dusty old tunnel, but she could still evade looking towards his naked form, by focusing on his feet.

"I am robed, Sarah," he clarified, amusement lacing his tone. Sarah felt her body release its tension. Slightly. She still held onto her mortification at having caught him wanking — if him calling out her name was anything to go by — over her.

"I should have knocked," she repeated. "I just didn't want to wake you up suddenly, so I was trying to be quiet."

"Sarah"—Jareth reached out and held her elbow, steering her back to his chamber—"you do not have to keep justifying yourself. My rooms are technically yours, and even if they weren't, I would never deny you a late-night visit."

"I can assure you that wasn't why I was visiting," Sarah retorted hastily.

"Pity." She could tell he grinned as he said this. Jareth led her to his bed, and she sat down, perched precariously on the side, while he leant back against the headboard, legs stretched out, arms behind his head. Jareth may be clothed, but she wasn't going to make eye-contact with him.

"I am not my father," he started as she tried to push away her embarrassment, her arousal and the fuzzy feeling in her brain after witnessing such a scene. "He would never let his wives enter his domain without permission, and if they had done what you just did, they would have witnessed his adultery with another courtesan or another noble. That man was never faithful."

"Your poor mother," Sarah said the only thing she could think of to say, despite not being particularly fond of her either.

"Don't pity her, Precious," he said and then sighed dramatically. Adding as an afterthought, "she was just as bad. They all are."

"It still surprises me that you do not approve."

"I did in my youth," he admitted. "I partook in a very promiscuous lifestyle, as you are well aware. Things change, and though the fae folk are slow to growth, I believe that I have outgrown that particular life."

'Not enough to stop wanking,' Sarah thought with amusement.

"I still have desires, Sarah," he said as if he had read her mind, "but they are rather singular now."

"Please tell me you don't scry for people while you..." Sarah faltered, still hazy from her arousal.

"While I wank?" He grinned at her. "Peace, Sarah. I won't take what you don't offer freely, I have told you this. It would arouse me more if you enthusiastically granted me a moment, than if I stole it voyeuristically."

Sarah was grateful for the half-light in the room that allowed her to flush without being observed too intimately. Not just because he was talking about what arouses him, but also the comfortable way he spoke about wanking like he wasn't ashamed of having been caught.

"There is no shame in what you caught me doing, Sarah," he said as if he had read her mind yet again. "I apologise for having embarrassed you, however."

"I should have knocked," she repeated, wanting desperately to disappear into the ground.

"Don't fear any repercussions, precious," Jareth said, inspecting his bare hand. "I will always knock before I enter your room. I suspect you would feel abashed if I likewise walked in on you."

Sarah just covered her beetroot-red face with her hands and groaned.

"You do please yourself, though, don't you?" he asked, leaning forward with interest. "It has been a long time since your mortal husband."

"I didn't come in here to discuss my..." Sarah stalled. "...My intimate life with you."

"Who better than your husband, especially when you just caught him masturbating to thoughts of his wife?" he asked, shifting across the bed to sit directly beside her. Sarah felt Jareth's body heat as if he was touching her with his hands. Waves of desire crashed through her, and she groaned again.

"Yes," she admitted, looking directly in his eyes as courage gripped her. "I masturbate."

Jareth nodded, looking pleased, but interestingly, not in a smug way. "Good, I am glad to hear. Now tell me, do you ever think of me when you touch yourself?"

Jareth's hands lay on his lap, and Sarah noticed as he asked the question, they had tensed, with the fingertips digging into the soft material of his silk robe. He may be arrogant, but he seemed unsure about himself in this regard, of late. Sarah had given him very little reason to feel self-satisfied, she supposed. She focused on his naked hand as she thought about how to answer.

"You know I only ever think about you," Jareth continued, filling the awkward silence. "I am feeling generous tonight, so you don't have to answer if you would rather not, but —"

"Yes." Sarah shifted her gaze from his thighs and hands, back to his face. "Yes, I give myself satisfaction while thinking of you."

She heard Jareth swallow, noticing his hands were now fists balled into his lap, his eyes dark, his nostrils flared.

"Precious thing," he murmured, closing his eyes.

"Jareth?" Sarah placed her hand on his thigh, Jareth instantly shot his eyes open, to look first at her hand, and then at her face. "About why I am here in your chambers in the first place?"

Jareth chuckled. "You're not here to make all my dreams come true, then?"

"Not tonight," Sarah answered vaguely.

"Then, by all means, enlighten me." Jareth placed his hand over the hand still resting on his thigh. Sarah's mind had turned to mush; aroused, sensual slush. The contact had nerves flaring, and muscles deliciously fluttering. She inhaled deeply to resume oxygen intake and to get her blood flowing again.

"I went future-walking," Sarah informed him. "I was able to leave when I wanted, but what I saw... I had to let you know."

"I thought you were now proficient in blocking out intrusive walking states?" Jareth raised his brow. He continued in a bitter tone, "that's why you went back to sleeping by yourself."

"Yes," Sarah replied, snappily, "I allowed it. It was rather pushy, and I was curious. But do you want to know what I saw?"

"You shouldn't allow it while you're learning," Jareth growled. "What if you got stuck and—"

"Jareth!" Sarah pinched the bridge of her nose. "Thank you for your concern, but I am safe here, aren't I?"

He looked away and sighed. "Yes, so what did you see?"

"Your father declares war on us, and the Eastern side of our kingdom is razed"— Sarah's hand flinched under the pressure of Jareth's who still held it tight—"which means Ghent, Jareth."

"We will send extra patrols out that way, and your friends can stay with us," he offered. "We will ensure accommodation for all Ghentian refugees if this comes true. Currently, your friends at Cloverfield are already protected by my magic, from when Terry first visited you there."

"I didn't think this could wait for the morning," she said with a sigh. She didn't want to jump into a conversation about Terry. "I couldn't sleep knowing what our future may hold."

"You were right to tell me." He squeezed her hand. "We will discuss it more in the morning."

"Thank you." Sarah patted his knee, before rising to leave. "I feel better just having told someone."

She headed to the door, aware that Jareth was again following her.

"Sarah, before you go, may I please ask a favour?" Jareth propped himself up against the wall staring intensely at her, a crystal forming in his hand. He was blocking her exit out of the room, so she stood awkwardly between his bed and him.

"Yes?" Sarah bit her lip, uncertain where he would take it. "You can ask, but I may not agree with the favour."

"Just so," he said, grinning, his sharp teeth slightly visible. "As I said, I would not scry for you without your say so, and I won't. Sarah, may I have your consent?"

Sarah flushed brilliant red, darting her eyes away. "You want to watch me while I..."

"Precisely." He pushed off from the wall and closed the gap between them. His voice lowered to a murmur, "and you can have one too so that I can repay the favour."

He held out a crystal to her. Sarah stared at it with so many questions.

"You just have to tap it, when you grant me permission," he explained. "And then it will show you me while I see you. Any time you want to end transmission, you just have to say no or tap it."

Sarah eyed the ball warily. It was simultaneously tempting and mortifying. Jareth watching her while she masturbated was a tremendous turn on as well as incredibly uncomfortable.

"I know you humans have shame about sex." Another step closer. "I am not judging you for either choice. You must know I find you the most attractive and desirable creature I have ever been fortunate enough to encounter. And you happen to be my wife, that I can't touch. Please do this for me but also let me do this for you. You admit you think of me while you seek pleasure. This way, we can both get what we want without intimacy or emotional obligation that is at present so insulting to you."

Jareth was a breath away from her now. His eyes darkened as he searched Sarah's face for an answer. She glanced down at the crystal. Without making eye contact, Sarah seized the sphere, instantly bolting and fleeing Jareth's presence.

* * *

Jareth grinned wildly as Sarah ran off, leaving him alone. It was a positive development that she took the crystal. She admitted she desired him, and that was a step in the right direction. While he was happy to play the long game with building her trust, he didn't see any harm nudging her along. Jareth didn't think she would use it though. Taking it and running away with it was one thing, but consenting to mutual voyeuristic masturbation was another thing. He lay back on his bed, willing to grant her time to consent, but if Sarah didn't use it, then he was just going to go ahead and finish himself off anyway. Seeing Sarah with desire visible on her face, as well as only dressed in her nightclothes did not provide succour with his unsatisfied state; he was even more painfully aroused.

Jareth had just closed his eyes when the crystal hummed. He opened his eyes to see the crystal floating above him. Blood rushed instantly to all the right places as he watched her through the crystal lying in her bed. She was still clothed, but she was starting to touch her body over her nightdress; running her hands down her sides, and cautiously over her breasts. Jareth groaned at the sight of her almost innocent touching, as his own hands mimicked her exact movements, across his stomach, along his thighs, then back up, across the hips, avoiding any of the erogenous zones.

Sarah's confidence would come, Jareth was sure. She was avoiding looking at her crystal, but slowly she looked up at it, her eyes dark with desire. She was biting her lip most tantalisingly, as she started undoing the ties at the front of her dress. Jareth did the same, slipping out of his nightshirt and flinging it away. His cock was straining now, and she was still showing no skin.

"The power you have over me, Precious," he grunted under his breath as he moved to stroke his nipples. He saw her gasp as she discerned this movement, and a thrill shot through him. He was used to fae desiring him but had grown bored of their interest. Seeing Sarah react so delightfully to his desire, fuelled his no end. If he had been touching his cock, he was sure he would have come straight away at the sight of her, clothed, but trembling with anticipation and arousal. Loving someone for the first time in his long history, made his attraction to her all the more tangible. Oh, he wished he was there with her.

* * *

Sarah couldn't believe she was doing this. As the last of the fastenings came unlaced, Sarah gently eased her nightgown free, discarding it on the floor. She now lay exposed upon her bed, gazing up at the orb wavering above her, like she was some kind of offering. Sarah brought her legs up to give some modesty to her lower half. She noted Jareth's apparent approval and desire as she lay nude, her hands exploring her body. Sarah gained courage as Jareth copied her actions. She swallowed her nerves, having been overtaken by her lust. Her hands commenced caressing and massaging her breasts, gently pinching her nipples, willing him to take the lead.

He didn't. Sarah could see him arching his back, biting his lip and trembling, but he still hadn't touched below the belt. His trousers remained on him.

"Take your goddamn trousers off," Sarah ordered heatedly, thinking he wouldn't hear her.

"As you wish, Precious." His voice emitted from the crystal, clearly and heavy with desire. Sarah recoiled at first, but then laughed, as he winked at her. She watched him lick his lips, then run his hands down across his flat stomach, hooking his thumbs into the top of his night pants. Sarah longed to touch Jareth's taut stomach for herself but contented herself with watching. She felt liquid arousal gush from inside her, as Jareth freed his penis from the confines of his trousers. It slapped against his stomach, big, hard and angry. After that sizeable obstacle was out of the way, Jareth then slid his slacks off his legs with ease.

"See what you do to me, precious," he groaned, taking himself in hand. "What do I do to you, I wonder?"

Sarah gasped at the sudden onslaught of heat to the pivotal parts of her body. "You turn me on, Jareth."

"Sarah," he moaned, holding himself with a still hand. "If you don't want to hear me or you don't want me to hear from you, you can ask the crystal to 'mute'."

Sarah swallowed. "Jareth, do you want to hear me?"

"Oh, so very much, love." He bit his lips and closed his eyes. Sarah wanted to hear her effect on him, that was for sure. He continued, "tell me what you want me to do to myself."

Sarah was stroking her stomach, just below her tummy button, but at Jareth's words, her hand started drifting further south. Without answering his question, Sarah ran two fingers around the outside of her vulva, eliciting a low moan from both of them, as his hands started moving slowly in conjunction with her. As he pumped from shaft to tip, she dipped two fingers in between her soft folds.

"Sarah, open your legs wider, love." His head fell back, and his eyes fluttered. Sarah felt another wave of desire at his constant use of the word 'love.' She eased her legs open with her free hand, while her occupied digits dipped into her vagina to lubricate her clit.

"So swollen and wet, Sarah." His thumb rubbed over the tip of his cock, glistening with his need. Sarah couldn't take it anymore, and with a loud groan, she rubbed a single finger over her clit, while she eased another finger from her other hand into her opening. Hooking her finger inside as far as she could reach, and then furiously stroking her clit, had the effect of making Jareth move his hand faster. Jareth repeated her name over and over as he moved quicker. Sarah could barely keep her eyes open to watch him much longer, as already her muscles were starting to tense and tighten.

Both of them were breathing erratically, as they watched each other with hooded eyes. Sarah saw the power she had over him. She wasn't even touching him, and she had this potent effect on him.

That thought was enough to send her over the edge. "Jareth, I am going to c—"

She stilled her finger inside her vagina and sped up the finger stimulating her clit until her rings of muscles clenched and then released in waves of pleasure.

As Sarah's orgasm was still pulsing through her body, Jareth reached his, spurting hot strings across his stomach with a shout of her name, followed by heavy panting. His dark eyes never left hers, his hand still holding his cock as come dripped down across his fingers. Mortification crept in as the afterglow of pleasure decreased.

"Sarah, I l—" Jareth started between panted breaths, but Sarah threw her pillow at the orb, causing it to go clear, then dropping onto her bedspread, heavily. Consent revoked; she didn't need to hear his profession of love after what they just did.

* * *

Sarah slept very well that night. When she woke, she was less mortified about the events during the night and more than a little aroused by the memory. The temptation to use the crystal again was making her clit throb. Ignoring it, she climbed out of bed and started the day. Jareth's room was empty when she entered it, and so she headed straight out the door.

Breakfast was in the dining room with both Jareth and Sevlydi. Both of them were there when she entered. Jareth looked her up and down, and smirked at her blatant blush spreading from her cheeks, down her neck. Sarah rubbed her cheek as if it would wipe the crimson hue away. She took a deep breath and seated herself in her chair like the Queen she was.

"Good morning, Your Majesty." Sevlydi winked at her. He was unusually sober, despite the wedding and the days after passing in alcohol-fuelled sulking. Sarah greeted him, politely back and started tucking into her meal. She casually looked up to find Jareth's eyes honed in on her, dark and inscrutable. She returned his stare, unwaveringly. His attention earnt her a twinge at her centre. She tucked her hair behind her ears, and he deliberately and tantalisingly ran the tip of his tongue over his front teeth.

Jareth delved into conversation with Sevlydi about Sarah's vision of the future war. Sarah piped in when necessary, but when the conversation lapsed again, Jareth smirked and Sarah fidgeted in her seat.

"So you two are delightfully self-conscious today," Sevydi singsonged.

"Are we?" Jareth asked, indifferently before taking a bite of his toast. "I am not sure how to act self-consciously. Am I doing it right? Well, I must be if that's what you're seeing."

"Well, Sarah is certainly uncomfortable." Sevlydi glanced at her.

"She always is around me." Jareth grinned at her. "I have that effect on her. Isn't that right, darling?"

Sarah could elect to let herself be embarrassed by this, or own it. She chose the latter. She laughed, blew him a kiss and replied with, "unquestionably, my darling."

"See"—Jareth waved his toast at his brother—"she is just squirming in anticipation of my touch."

"Indubitably," Sarah teased back. "I want your hands and mouth all over me."

Sevldyi groaned. "On that note, I think I have finished breakfast."

"Don't start something, you don't intend to finish, Sev," Jareth warned, taking a deep sip of his coffee. "My wife is learning to play the game."

Sevlydi stalked out of the room, Jareth leant in closer and murmured, "if only you spoke the truth, my love."

"Yes, if only." Sarah blew on her hot coffee. "I wonder what you would do with that 'truth' when you have it."

"Good question!" Jareth smirked before he too left.

* * *

She had been in the library for about an hour when she felt a presence. She looked up to see Jareth lying on the couch near her. He was propped up on cushions, dropping grapes into his mouth.

"I would use that truth to bring you to heights of pleasure you have never reached before," he said without looking at her. "I would be a slave to your satisfaction. I would have you addicted to my hands and lips, so you would never want for anyone else's touch. After last night, you can't argue you don't want it."

Sarah's brain turned to mush as he spoke, her eyes drawn to both his hands and his mouth. She couldn't think of a single thing to say. Her feelings were ineffable, and her response was a single utterance of "ugh." Sex and love were different anyway, so what difference did it make if she sought gratification from him, without giving him her love?

She decided it would make no difference as she watched his eyes close with delight at the taste of the grapes. Impulsively, she left her book behind and headed over to where Jareth reclined upon the sofa. She picked up a grape and slowly drew it into her mouth. Jareth's eyes flicked open to watch her. She bit it in half, then popped the other half into his slightly gaping mouth. His lips closed around her fingers, drawing them in with a light suck before he released her.

"I thank you for last night." Jareth's voice was husky. "Did you want me touching you?"

Sarah didn't answer him. Instead, she kneeled beside him and ran her hands through his hair. She lightly trailed her fingers down the side of his face, and across his collarbone. Her fingertip outlined his medallion, before heading down the centre of his shirt, across his buttons. She slid her hands under his garment and started running them up to his chest.

"Don't start something that you can't finish," Jareth moaned as her fingers moved over his nipples. "Will you kiss me, Sarah?"

"No." Sarah swiftly moved her hands down to his waistline. "Only hands, today."

Sarah could see his cock was already hard, so tenderly she slid her hand under the waistband. She wrapped her fingers around Jareth's shaft, her nails scraping slightly against his skin as she went.

"Sarah," he breathed, as her hand moved past his cock to caress his balls. Jareth impatiently thrust into the air, releasing himself from his trousers. It was one thing, seeing Jareth in a crystal, it was quite another to see him in his full glory. She felt the imbalance of being fully clothed while he lay on the couch in front of her, deliciously naked, save for his boots and pendant. She cupped his balls, squeezing them lightly, before rubbing her thumb over the base of his cock. As he groaned, she moved her hand agonisingly slowly up the entirety of his erection, her thumb pressing along the veins on the underside.

Sarah turned her attention away from his throbbing cock, to look at his face. He was studying her through half-closed eyes, panting openly. As her hand reached the sensitive tip, he bit his lower lip to stifle a groan. Jareth's hand came and rested upon her shoulder, caressing her neck with his fingertips. She swirled her fingertips around his tip, watching as beads of his desire leaked out. Sarah resisted the temptation to lick them away. She licked her lips in place of his cock, an action that didn't go unnoticed by Jareth as his grip tightened on her shoulder.

Sarah's free hand had been unconsciously rubbing herself through her clothing. She pulled that hand away and used it to touch his face, his hair, his chest and his taut stomach. She alternated between scraping her nails across his skin, to rubbing and kneading him. Her other hand was still languidly drawing up and down his cock. Jareth's groans and thrusts changed her idle motions to more deliberate jerks, twisting at the end.

"Sarah," Jareth grunted, his body shaking as she worked his penis. Without warning, the trembling ceased, and he thrust his hips up one last time before he spilt all over Sarah's hand and his navel. Jareth lay there panting with his eyes closed, worrying his lips with his teeth. After a few minutes, he moaned and opened his eyes. He focused his slightly dazed look on her, before murmuring "you are incredible."

Sarah was still holding his penis and felt it start to swell again in her hand. She let go and rose to find something with which to clean her hand.

"Here, let me," Jareth offered as he sat up, waving his hand over hers, cleaning it instantly. Then he did the same to himself. Jareth still had her hand in his so he yanked lightly on it, bringing her sprawling into his lap. He chuckled at her startled expression before he nuzzled his nose into her neck. "It's your turn, my love."

Jareth shifted her, so she sat with both legs on one side. He wrapped one arm around her waist and brought the other one up under her skirt and up her leg. His face was still buried in her neck, kissing her skin softly and occasionally flicking out his tongue to taste her. His hand was now stroking her inner thigh, tantalisingly close, but not close enough to where she needed his hand. Her undergarments were all but dripping from the arousal she gained from bringing Jareth to his pleasure.

"Sarah, I am going to remove these infernal things by magic." He tugged on her knickers, which were more like boxer shorts than modern-day female underwear. Sarah grunted in response. She felt chill air hit her nether regions as her knickers ceased to exist. Jareth's hand started its unending journey back up her thighs, causing a moan to be teased out of her as his knuckles brushed lightly against her curls.

"It is like seeing divinity itself to have you trembling in my lap," Jareth mumbled into her neck, his sharp teeth snagging softly on her tender skin.

"Jareth," Sarah keened as he palmed her mound, her hands gripping onto his leg on one side and the back of the sofa with the other.

"Don't fret, Sarah." His hand tightened around her waist, stroking her reassuringly. "You were generous with me, so I will not drag this out for you."

As he said 'generous' he thrust a finger between her lips and folds to seek out her clit. Her breathing hitched and desire flooded her system in torrents. He circled the bundle of nerves a few times, before dipping into her centre, and replacing his finger with a thumb on her sensitive spot. His movements were slow and agonising as he pulled his finger in and out of her. Sarah moaned and rocked her hips until he added a second finger and increased the speed of his lazy circles around her clit.

The sensations were so sharp, Sarah could feel her stomach convulse with every sweep of his thumb. She opened her eyes to see Jareth's intense look, desire imprinted on his face as he watched her. Jareth with his voice, low and sensuous and almost pleading, asked her to come for him. It wasn't so much what he said, but the way he said it, that tipped her over the edge. She tossed her head back as her climax spiralled through her body, more substantial than she had ever felt it before. Jareth eased his finger out but kept his thumb in place to ride out the rest of her orgasm. He left an open-mouthed kiss on her neck as she flopped bonelessly against his body.

Jareth brought his hand out from under her skirts and wrapped it around her waist to join his other arm. Sarah could feel Jareth's fresh erection against her bottom, causing her final aftershock to pulse vigorously. She bit her lip as she tried to steady her breathing again.

It took her a while to realise Jareth was singing in her ear as he held her. " _I'll paint you mornings of gold, I'll spin you Valentine evenings…"_

* * *

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Long-awaited smut. 
> 
> Thank you to everyone who has commented and subscribed. I hope a certain person noticed my subtle-not-subtle Joggle reference in here. *blows kiss* And my less subtle but still very subtle (haha) Jidymus reference. ;) 


	23. Chapter Twenty Two

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

"Makes no sense at all, makes no sense to fall; falling. As the world falls down; falling. Falling; falling in love," Jareth crooned, before offering light kisses across her shoulder. Sarah started to calm down after their mutual exertions, and her breathing began to even out. Jareth ceased singing and kissing her but still held her tight.

"I have returned your undergarments," he whispered into her neck. She was sure she would have her wits about her in no time. She ran a hand over her face and then smoothed her skirts down. Sarah was more than a little overwhelmed about what just occurred. Jareth's fingers had entered her, and she wasn't even dreaming. Sarah had also pleasured Jareth to fulfilment. Sarah didn't know what propelled her to perform such a deed. Strangely, she wasn't embarrassed so much as sated and bewildered by her own actions.

"Sorry to interrupt," came Sevlydi's voice cutting through her post-orgasmic fog.

"You aren't interrupting," Jareth said coldly, suddenly fully clothed once again. "I would have slaughtered you on the spot if you had."

Sarah wriggled a bit in a futile effort to leave Jareth's lap but felt too lazy to put any real effort into escaping.

"I see." Sevlydi eyed them both. "This is a rather public space for that kind of activity."

"Stop trying to embarrass my wife, and tell me why you are here," Jareth snapped, his fingers digging into her waist.

"The Queen's brother!" Sevlydi slid his eyes over Sarah and back to Jareth.

"Toby?" Sarah gasped, fully awake now after her stupor.

"Tobias Williams," Sevlydi affirmed.

"Get on with it," Jareth snapped again.

"The portal is ready," Sevlydi said cryptically. Jareth nodded, a grim expression on his face.

"Sarah, are you ready to go and see your brother?"

"Are you serious?" Sarah clapped her hand over her mouth. "How?"

"Briyash saw what you did by returning the pearl to the unicorn," Jareth explained. "He is in debt to you for bringing a unicorn into his life. Not one fae in existence has ever offered to return a Stolen Pearl."

"Well, it belonged to the unicorn," Sarah answered with a shrug.

Jareth continued, "He asked what he could do for you to service the debt. I mentioned that you wanted to reunite with your brother, so he is using Elfish magic to create a portal to your brother's neighbourhood. The portal will circumvent the protection applied to him. Briyash couldn't achieve this by himself, though. The Labyrinth has heard its Queen's desire, and now that you have married me, it wants to help maintain your happiness. Together they are bending the rules."

"The portal will take us to his location," Sevlydi summarised. "I think you and one of us should go. He will need a familiar face."

"But I thought that if I went Above, I wouldn't be able to get back?" Sarah furrowed her brow.

"You're married now," Sevlydi reminded her.

"Your magic has manifested several times more since we were officially married," Jareth said in a low voice. "You could be strong enough now, but if it turns out you couldn't get back Underground with Toby, then you would have to stay there, but at least you'd have each other."

"Each other, but no job, house, money or viable backstory," Sarah pointed out.

"We can take care of most of those things." Jareth closed his eyes. "You could start a new life, anonymously, away from your old life."

"You said it would be impossible to live there again, with my encroaching immortality and all that," Sarah accused.

"If you went back to your old life." Jareth swallowed, his face tight. "I never stipulated that starting over wouldn't work. But you'd no longer be Sarah Williams."

"You just married me, and we have a war coming." Sarah felt Jareth's hands fall away from her waist, so she slid off his lap, and returned to her original seat. "How could you want me to go and possibly never come back?"

"Want?" Jareth barked. "I do not _want_ you to go, but we only have this one chance. The risk is too high that Toby won't leave there with a stranger. He needs you to convince him. If I lose you—" he paused to clear his throat. "If I lose you, then at least I know you will be happy."

"I have to get my brother back," Sarah echoed similar words from nearly two decades before. She repressed the feelings of dismay she felt at his words.

"I know." Jareth couldn't meet her eyes. "And I know you mean it."

"What's said is said," Sarah said so quietly, she doubted anyone would have heard her.

* * *

"I think it is better if Sevlydi goes with you," Jareth told her. The truth was that it would be far too painful to go with her and then have her torn from his arms. At least if he stayed here, he could say goodbye to her on his terms. "He is more removed from the Labyrinth magic than I am, so that is one less risk we would be taking in this whole operation."

Sarah nodded, fidgeting with her necklace. "Do I need to take this off, first or—?"

"No!" Jareth wanted her to at least remember her short stint as a Queen before she possibly returned to a mundane experience. "The portal magic should acknowledge your authority, but this will help."

"So the portal is ready?" Sarah seemed skittish and unsure of herself all of a sudden. Jareth rose to stand with his cane in hand. He wandered over to her.

"I didn't tell you this earlier because I didn't want to get your hopes up and have them dashed," he told her. "There is no time to say goodbye to your friends, but rest assured I will do it for you."

"Even Hoggle?"

"Even Huggle," Jareth acknowledged. He was feeling exceptionally generous after Sarah's attention to him, but not charitable enough to get the dwarf's name right. He sighed as he led his wife to the portal chamber. They had come so far, and Jareth could tell Sarah had invested more emotion in their amorous activities than just gratification. He was so close to getting a declaration from her; he could taste it. But because Jareth loved her as significantly as he did, he would deserve Sarah's affection more if he risked letting her go.

Oh, how Jareth hoped that she would come back. Even if there was a chance, he wished that Sarah _chose_ to return. Everything the kingdom gained by her coming into equal power, would be squandered with his sacrifice; leaving her Aboveground.

They entered the portal chamber that was devoid of anything but the two stone pillars that framed a curtain of white swirling mist. Elfish runes covered the tiles at the base, joining the two pillars. It was a rudimentary portal. Nothing as flash and fancy as perhaps a wealthier Kingdom like Gogondial would have.

"So I guess this might be goodbye." Sarah looked flummoxed, as she turned her gaze from the portal stone to his face.

"Sarah"—Jareth reached out for her hand—"I hope you find Toby and get him to come here safely."

_Please come home, Sarah._

"Should I change first?" Sarah looked down at her Goblin Queen attire. Sevlydi threw a crystal at her, and before she knew it, she was standing dressed in the black, skintight catsuit she had arrived in the Underground wearing.

"Oh, that was meant to clothe you in your last mortal attire." Sevlydi frowned. "Instead, you appear to be a cat."

Despite his misgivings about this whole venture, Jareth couldn't help but howl with laughter at the sight of a very cross Sarah, dressed in a catsuit.

"This _was_ my last mortal attire," Sarah swore, blushing as she hazarded a glance in his direction. "Stop laughing, or I will break out in song. I hear you're a fan of coming on Eileen."

"Find something else for her to wear," Jareth told his brother, his smile wavering at her threat. In a quieter voice to his brother, he said, "keep this one for when she gets back."

Sarah blushed even redder at his comment. Jareth chuckled before she was dressed by Sevlydi, in simple black jeans and a blue silk top. Her medallion sat under her shirt, so only the cord was visible. He didn't care too much for mortal fashions, but the clothes hugged her curves just right, so he forgave them. He tugged her closer with the hand he still held.

"How can I sacrifice an entire Kingdom for the sake of one person?" Sarah muttered to him as she moved closer.

"Let's just hope you are not." Jareth pulled her into a brief hug, before releasing her. He longed to hold her and never let her go, but he had to. He had to let her go without so much as a kiss and hope that she would return to him of her own free will. "Go now, Sarah."

Sarah turned towards Sevlydi, and without a backwards glance, she went through the portal.

* * *

Sarah and Sevlydi landed in a dark street. Rows of terraced houses surrounded them, from what she could see in the dim light of the streetlamps. A bench was directly behind her on the pavement, next to a rubbish bin and bike rack. It appeared they had landed in a bus stop.

"His house is just over there." Sevlydi pointed over to the row of hours opposite the road.

"How are we going to go to him?"

"My magic means I can persuade your aunt to let us see Toby." He grinned.

"Not my aunt." Sarah followed her brother-in-law across the road. He knocked at the front door. Sarah noticed while they waited, that he was in a black jacket and black jeans, fitting right in.

The door creaked open, and a woman who strikingly looked like Karen but without the warmth stood there, an implacable glare on her face.

"Yes?" she snapped. "What?"

"We are here to see Tobias Williams," Sevlydi said. Not-Karen looked at both of them. Then her eyes narrowed on Sarah with recognition.

"Ah, Susan!" She scowled at Sarah. "Finally found us. What are you going to do? Kidnap him? Let me just call the police.

"Take us to Tobias Willaims," Sevlydi ordered as he waved his hand discreetly. Not-Karen's eyes lost their focus almost instantly.

"Of course," Not-Karen said with a glazed look. "Let me show you to his room."

They followed her through a very narrow hallway and up a rickety set of stairs. Everything felt worn and old, despite it being clean and tidy. They arrived outside a door that Not-Karen unlocked with a key.

"Here you go," she ushered them in and locked the door behind them.

"It's fine," Sevlydi whispered. "We just needed to get in. Locking us in won't stop us getting out."

"Who's there?" began a somewhat unsteady voice.

"Toby?" Sarah asked.

"Sarah?" Toby replied uncertainly.

"Yes, it's me," Sarah whispered back. "Where are you? We can't see a thing."

Light shot out from in front of her, in the form of one of Sevlydi's crystals. Sarah scanned the bare room to see Toby sitting on his bed, huddled up in the corner, squinting in the sudden brightness. He would be about seventeen years old now, and he was all gangly legs and dirty blonde hair. Toby's eyes darted between the two adults. His eyes focussed eventually on Sarah.

"Sarah?" he said again.

"Yes, it's me," she repeated, stepping closer. "Oh, Toby!"

"I haven't seen you since mom and dad's funeral." He hunched further in on himself .

"I couldn't find you, bud." Sarah knelt on the ground by his bed. "I tried so hard. I am so sorry I couldn't find you. I am here now."

"Aunt Joan kept moving house," Toby explained. "I don't blame you. I blame Joan. I hoped you would come and rescue me one day."

"I promised I would find you," she reassured him. He was so pale and skittish. Sarah couldn't imagine what damage Toby had suffered. That he wasn't angry and lashing out, was a tremendous positive. She half expected Toby to hold her responsible for his entrapment in his aunt's house for so many years.

"One more year, and I will be an adult." he rocked back and forth slightly, before looking back at Sevlydi. "Is this your boyfriend?"

"No, this is Sev—um—Sev, and he is my brother-in-law." Sarah deemed telling Toby a more simplistic name, might be the most suitable approach.

"You are still married to Mark?" Toby frowned. "After what he did at the funeral?"

Sarah didn't know he knew about that. She sighed and shook her head. "I married someone else, Toby. Mark and I split up the day of the funeral."

"I have missed so much," Toby said with a pained sigh, wiping his hands over his face. "How did you get in here?"

"Ah." Sarah scratched her neck. "The thing is, Toby, I don't know how to explain this..."

"We've only got a little bit of time." Sevlydi stepped forward. "Your sister made an acquaintance with a man many years ago, when you were a wee babe. That man was my brother. After thirteen years had passed, he wanted to reignite their acquaintance, except some other people got there first. They kidnapped her, and my brother couldn't find her for two years. Eventually, we discovered your sister, safe and well. She married my brother very recently, and he wanted to make your sister happy, so he enlisted my help to track you down."

"Wow, but that doesn't really explain—" Toby began.

"Hilary also helped," Sarah cut in. "She found your address."

"The man your sister is married to is not a man but rather a fae," Sevlydi went on. "A very powerful fae. I am also a fae, and we got into this house by my magic, confounding your aunt."

"Magic?" Toby's brows shot up. He looked paler still. Sarah winced at the thought Toby wouldn't believe them. Why would a teeanger believe their crazy story about magic? Sarah almost groaned out loud and the absurdity of their situation. She watched emotions flit across Toby's face before he cleared his throat, and said, "Sarah, don't tell me you married that Goblin King you were always going on about?"

Sarah gritted her teeth as Sevlydi turned a knowing look onto her.

"Yes, but we will save the storytelling for another time." Sarah inched closer to Toby. "We haven't much time before the portal closes, so we need to know if you are coming back with us."

"Where are you going?"

"Underground, to the Castle at the centre of the—" Sarah began.

"—Labyrinth," Toby finished, his eyes sparkling. "I remember that story you used to read to me."

Toby always had a fantastic memory. She supposed it was to do with being fae-touched as he was. She cursed herself for having read that story to him, though it seemed to be speeding things up for them now.

"Can I see some magic?" Toby inquired.

Sev waved his hand, and Toby's threadbare blanket went snaking across the bed and onto the floor, wrapping itself around the leg of his wooden bed and then folding itself neatly next to the pillow. Toby's mouth dropped open in astonishment.

Sevlydi gave a shallow nod. "You need to choose, as the portal won't hold."

"Toby, if you choose to come with us, then know that it is forever." Sarah felt honesty was required, despite her mantra of "any means possible" to get Toby home. Toby had to know what he was getting himself into for eternity.

"Will I learn magic?"

"Unsure," Sarah replied hastily, aware of how agitated Sevlydi was becoming behind her. "But you will be safe, and live like a Prince, and you will be with me."

"Anything has got to be better than here!" Toby stood up and grabbed a duffel bag from his wardrobe. "I have had this packed since I came here in case you came for me."

"Toby, if you come with us, there will be no college or university." Sarah sniffed. "No chance to follow your dreams."

"I wasn't going anyway." Toby shrugged. "Joan and Andrew have me working in their shop all the hours when I am not at school. I am working full time when I am no longer at high school."

"Your dreams—"

"My dreams involve me escaping from them," Toby replied.

"We've got to go," Sevlydi said suddenly, looking towards the door. There is magic here that isn't of the Labyrinth."

"What?" Sarah also looked towards the door.

"I thought it was strange that we were locked in," he went on. "Tobias, your aunt and uncle, were they always so callous?"

"Not really," Toby admitted with a sniff. "Joan was just like mom. I stayed with them the weekend the house burnt down, but they were different during my stay like something wasn't quite right. I thought they were just fighting with each other or something. Then at the funeral, they just snapped and whisked me off. Then they were completely different; it was like they were possessed."

"Sarah, I thought you said you never liked them?" Sevlydi whispered as he made a crystal.

"They were kind to Toby, but I was just an interloper," Sarah said in response. "Joan never saw eye to eye with Karen in regards to her kindness towards me. Joan thought Karen was too soft on me."

"Hmmm." Sevlydi rolled the crystal towards the door. "I think they are changelings."

"Toby, are you going to come with us?"

"Yes, of course," he answered quickly.

"I have blocked the door, so it slows them down." Sevlydi straightened up and walked over to the window. "The confounding spell has worn off, and Changelings are dangerous. Especially if their possessions are being liberated. I can not use too much magic up here as we are breaking the rules as it is. Come take my hands, and I will transport us to the portal."

Sarah took Toby's bag and urged him toward Sevlydi. They all joined hands, and the next moment they were back in the street. Toby's eyes were wide, and he was too flabbergasted to speak.

"I am just going to summon the portal, and then we all jump through." He glanced pointedly at Sarah, before mouthing, "together."

"You will be doing no such thing," came the voice of Joan. They all spun around.

"Toby is mine," Joan cackled.

"What are you?" Sevlydi stood before Sarah and Toby in a protective stance. "A goblin? An imp?"

"I am the aunt of Tobias Williams," she said plainly.

"You are a changeling," Sevlydi growled. "And you have done something to the true aunt Joan and Uncle Andrew."

"How dare you?" Joan accused.

Sevlydi leaned in close and whispered into Sarah's ear. "When I say, take Toby through the portal. I will stay and deal with this."

Sevlydi straightened and faced down the aunt-changeling. "Who sent you?"

"No-one sent me," Joan shouted. "I am legally bound to be the caregiver of this child."

"Well, you didn't do a very sound job," Sarah hissed.

Joan's eyes flicked to Sarah, then travelled down to her medallion. Her eyes lit up, and she cackled. "Someone defeat the Goblin King, then? Or are you just his fuck-trophy?"

"Go now," Sevlydi threw a crystal behind them that revealed the portal. Sarah grabbed Toby by the upper arm and pulled him towards it. As they were approaching, Sarah turned around at Joan's high pitched screech, to see her launching herself three metres in the air to jump clear over Sevlydi's head and land directly between them and the portal. Sevlydi swore and darted towards them as Sarah and Toby turned to face their enemy in her new location.

"Tobias is ours," said a voice from behind. Andrew had joined the fray, and they were surrounded.

Sevlydi just laughed. "You think two changelings, without a solid link to the Underground, can take on two magical beings?"

"We certainly are not changelings," Joan insisted. Sarah rolled her eyes. She just witnessed her flying in the air...

"Let us pass!" Sarah straightened and stared Joan down.

"Never."

"Let us pass," Sarah said again. "Or die."

Toby gasped, but Joan just cackled. "I am not afraid of an ickle Goblin."

"I am not a goblin." Sarah stepped closer. "I am the Goblin Queen."

"I gathered from your wee piece of jewellery you have around your neck." Joan waved her hand. "Quaint."

Sevlydi chose this moment to hurl a crystal at Joan, which instantly stunned her. "Go now," he yelled as he pushed both Sarah and Toby towards the portal. Andrew instantly obstructed them, similarly to Joan. Sevlydi hurled another crystal at him, and they pressed forward. The three of them held hands and prepared to walk through.

"You won't feel anything, Tobias," Sevlydi reassured the teenager as he grimaced at the portal. "Just step through, now, all together."

They went to take the step, but two things happened at once. Someone grabbed Sarah's arm, jerking her backwards, while Sevlydi attempted to launch her and Toby within the gateway. In the end, Toby went through the portal by himself, while Sevlydi and Sarah remained Aboveground. Sarah, charged with fury at the thought of separation from her brother again, spun around, kicking the offender hard in the groin. Andrew went down like a sack of lead, while Joan came for her with her hands extended like claws.

The burning pain was instant as Joan's fingernails scraped down Sarah's face, toppling them both onto the ground. Sevlydi tried pulling Joan off Sarah, but Joan sunk her nails in deeper. Images of Toby and Jareth streamed through her brain. Sarah couldn't fail them, so she drew on all her inner strength. She let out an imposing yell, rolling them both over, so she was on top. It was enough to disengage her attacker's claws, but not without extra pain. Blood flowed down her face and into her eyes. Blindly, she started punching Joan in the face.

"This is for Toby," Sarah yelled, delivering a punch after every word. "This is for my parents. This one is for the real Joan and Andrew."

Sevlydi was at her back in an instant. "We have to go; the portal is closing."

He gripped her under her arms, and half dragged her through the portal. Sarah glimpsed a bloody Joan rolling over and glaring at her as the portal vanished.

* * *

Jareth sat on his throne, swinging his riding crop around in circles. It had been hours. Time moved differently in the Above, so he knew that it hadn't been all that long since Sarah had left, but it didn't stop his worry. He got up out of his throne and paced around his throne room. Jareth still needed to make his wife a throne. She usually sat on his, while he stood to her side these days.

He had been King for so long, that he didn't need to seek his subjects' approval, while his Queen had only been the monarch for less than a year. He was generous enough to let her earn their respect by showing his subjects that she had his respect. Sarah would never acknowledge his kindness, but Jareth wanted her reign to be more straightforward than his had been. Sarah, however, defied his generosity and earnt the Goblin Kingdom's admiration naturally. Her reign would at least be less lonely than his. She had his company, even if she pretended she hated him. Hopefully, she would have the young Tobias' company too.

He took one more turn around his throne room, kicking a stray goblin, and then headed down to the portal. As he strode through the doorway, crop in one hand, cane in the other, he was surprised to see a human sprawled on the ground. At his approach, the human shuffled back and onto his feet, looking with uncertainty at him.

"You're him, aren't you?" the boy said, stepping back.

Jareth cocked his head and grinned. He was the wee babe he had bounced on his knee, years ago. He was lanky and in dire need of a good feast or two. Jareth would see to it that the wee lad would soon flourish. He was, after all, brother to the Queen. He watched as Toby recoiled from Jareth's pointy smile. He flashed his canines briefly before taking measured steps towards the child.

The smile soon slid off his face when he realised Tobias was alone.

"Tobias, where is Sarah?" Jareth rushed forward, as much as his one leg allowed him and grasped the scrawny lad by his shoulders. Time enough to do his menacing act at a later time.

"The changeling grabbed her as we were going through," Toby answered, his eyes widening in fear.

"Changeling?"

"Aunt Joan was a changeling," Toby gushed. "So was Uncle Andrew. According to Sev."

Sev? Were they on friendly terms already? Jareth sighed in frustration. "Is Sevlydi still with her?"

"Er, you mean Sev?" Toby asked, shrugging. "Yeah, I guess."

"Tobias!" Jareth pinched the bridge of his nose, almost whacking himself in the face with his riding crop. "I need to know if my— if your sister is alright."

"Oh, gee golly gosh, Mister," Toby answered snarkily. "I will just go back and check shall I?"

Jareth grunted and released the child. He was starting to see a family resemblance. He strode off, pacing the chamber with a dark look plastered on his face.

"Your sister has only got access to a minimal percentage of her magic," he growled. "She is vulnerable Above, and if the portal closes, there is no knowing if Sevlydi's magic is strong enough to transport them both back."

"Can't you go through and yank them back or help them?" Toby pointed over his shoulder at the portal that was starting to fade.

"I should never have let her go without me," he confessed. "It was selfish of me because it was too hard to say goodbye."

At the confused look on Toby's face, Jareth waved his hand. "Magic is complicated, but your sister is more so. I did not know if she would make it back through the portal, and I am less certain that she would want to."

Toby took the moment to look around at the stark walls of the portal chamber as if wondering exactly why she would want to come back to such a dreary, drab castle.

Jareth sighed again. "You being here, at least proves her intent was to come back because she would never have left you."

"You love my sister!" Toby raised his brows. Jareth narrowed his eyes at the precocious, forthright teen. He was right, of course, but how had he known?

"I do," he answered simply.

"She told me about you." Toby shuffled his feet on the cobblestones. "You were just a character in a book she loved. But the King was in love with her."

"Indeed." Jareth nodded, warily. That blasted book had changed the narrative specifically for Sarah.

"You would never have let her go if you didn't love her," Toby observed. "If you loved her less, you would want to possess her more."

"Indeed," Jareth said again, quieter this time.

"She will be Ok!" Toby pushed his unkempt, blonde fringe out of his face. "She is more robust than you think. I never gave up hope that she would come back for me. Sarah wouldn't let me give up on my dreams, and I am sure she would be the same for you."

Jareth cast his eyes over the wiry boy. He was astounded by his astuteness.

"You know we are married," he stated.

"Yep!" Toby nodded. "I didn't think Sarah would get married again after what Mark did. When she mentioned her husband, I thought she meant him, and I was so disappointed."

"And now?" Jareth was curious what this bright wee spark thought of his wife's choice in a husband. He resisted the urge to say something scathing about Sarah's ex-husband.

"I reserve judgement to see if my sister is happy," Toby said, stepping away from the nearly translucent portal. "She will make it back, won't she?"

"I sincerely hope so," Jareth said with an edge to his voice. He'd rip the veil to shreds if the changelings harmed her, or she didn't make it back. He paced some more to burn off his excess agitation. He wanted Toby to feel comfortable here and didn't want to scare the lad on his first day. Sarah would never forgive him if Toby took against him. Though judging him based on her happiness was a yardstick that wouldn't endear him to his brother-in-law.

"Can you go to her if she gets stuck there?"

"Yes." Jareth frowned. "But it's complicated. Usually crossing the veil happens during Beltane or Samhain, and for me, it is usually during a wish. A whole plane of existence happens between the Above and Undergrounds. The veil is a world unto itself; full of creatures and veil-keepers. It takes an awful amount of magic to traverse between worlds. I get a free pass because of my role, but Sarah is an unknown. She is Queen, but not recognised by the High Council."

Here Jareth paused as the portal flickered. His keen eyes penetrated the mists, and he could detect shadows moving within them. His heart leapt with hope.

"My father is powerful enough that I wouldn't put it past him to try and stop Sarah's re-entry," Jareth explained, hurriedly. "The portal is a risk, but I had to take it. If I return for Sarah, paid subordinates of my father may still prevent her entry. Rest assured, young Tobias I will return for my wife. I will locate her, and I will do my best to bring her back home. Veil-keepers be damned."

If Navas or the council hindered Sarah, Jareth would contemplate staying with her, damning his kingdom. He knew it wouldn't be the wisest course, but fuck it if he would lose her because of his siblings or his dratted father. He hadn't mentioned his specific concerns about this family's interference to Sarah after they discovered her ex had the Red Book. Jareth had told her of the veil-keepers, but not specifically those financed by his family. How easy it would be for them to remove her from power by keeping her Aboveground. Jareth hadn't lied to her, but he hadn't been entirely honest either, because Sarah would not have wanted him to denounce his Kingdom for her sake.

" _How can I sacrifice an entire Kingdom for the sake of one person?" Sarah had said before she left._

'The same way I would for you,' Jareth had thought, as she said those words.

"What has Sarah done to earn your father's anger?" Toby asked, bringing him out of his reverie.

"All she has done, Tobias, is not be my father's choice of weak-willed, pliable wife." Jareth's eyes never left the dwindling portal as he spoke.

"Sarah was always in defiance of those that were unjust," Toby mused. "It was her job, after all."

"Yes." Jareth chuckled. "I have come to appreciate that about her, as odd as that seems."

Jareth was pulled out of their conversation by the appearance of Sevlydi who practically fell through the portal.

"Where is she?" Jareth ordered, rushing towards his brother.

"We went through together," Sevlydi puffed. "I held her, but something ripped her away from me."

Jareth bellowed like a wounded animal, and charged at the diminishing portal, his sore leg all but forgotten. He pushed through the mist, and darkness instantly surrounded him. He reached out with his other senses and magic to find her. When Jareth called Sarah's name, the thick black inky fog of the veil muffled any sound, swallowing up his cries instantly.

As he searched, he plotted in his mind all of the different ways he would defile those that would harm his wife. He was just imagining slicing off the toes of one such critter, soaking those appendages in a bowl of bog water for two weeks, then sewing them into their mouth so they would taste the bog for eternity, when he heard a noise and felt a disturbance.

"Jareth," came a lone muffled cry. He headed in the direction, following the cord that connected them like a lifeline. He had only taken four steps when a body collided with his. His hands wrapped around the form that had barrelled into him, instinctively knowing that it was his Sarah. Her voice confirmed it when she uttered a relieved, "Jareth."

"Yes, my love, it is me." He pulled her tighter, only relaxing when she uttered a squeak of protest. "Are you hurt?"

"Yes, but not significantly." Sarah's arms wove around his waist, and she buried her head into his chest. "Is Toby—"

"He is safe in my— our castle," he ran his hand through her hair, relief flooding him as she was a tangible being. He moved his hand down her hair, and rested above her heart, taking comfort from its beating. "We need to get out of here before the portal closes."

"It's so dark," Sarah complained as she released him. Jareth found her hand and clamped it between both of his.

"Stay with me." Jareth started leading her towards the faint glow of the exit. "Do not let go for any reason."

They both moved across the unseen ground of the veil; Sarah clamped onto his arm, letting him take the lead.

"Jareth, I killed something," she confessed as they moved through the mist.

"What did you kill?" Jareth asked in an imperious tone, that also conveyed a mixture of curiosity and empathy, even to his ears.

"After Sevlydi and I got separated, something grabbed me, and without waiting to see what it was, I pulled my medallion off and stabbed it, then I accidentally sent a ball of magic out of my hands towards it," Sarah explained, breathlessly. "I blasted it off its feet. Then all the inky black mist started swooping in, like my future-walking."

"That is just the portal closing," Jareth explained. "Nothing to fear."

"And the thing I killed?"

"It could be anything," Jareth said. "Describe it to me when we get back. For now, we just need to get out of here."

"Aunt Joan was a changeling," Sarah went on.

"Hush, love," he whispered into her ear. "There are things here that mean us harm. Let's not draw their attention. You can tell me all about it when we get home."

They went the rest of the way through the veil without a word. They had approached the exit recognisable by the grey hues rather than just pitch black.

"Fuck," Jareth swore. They were too late. He put his hand up against the glass-like substance of the portal, knowing it had sealed. Sarah touched the spot beside him and muttered something barely detectable.

"What are you doing?"

"Rescuing you for a change," Sarah said with a giddy laugh. "I got out of a dream-crystal before. I did some reading after we spoke to Hilary. Apparently, this isn't too dissimilar."

"This isn't like a dream crystal, Sarah." Jareth held her hand tighter. "You do not want to mess with the veil."

"No, trust me!" Sarah took her hand away from the glass. He heard her shuffling around with something.

"Sarah, whatever you are about to do, I suggest you don't." Jareth pulled her hand towards him. "I will get us out of here."

Sarah didn't reply, but the next thing he heard was a smashing noise, and they were both falling. Jareth grasped furiously for Sarah, pulling her closer to himself as they fell. If he was going to die, he was going to do so while protecting Sarah. He felt her curl her hands into his shirt, and then without any warning, her lips crashed with his. She was offering him a kiss, and a searing one at that. And one he didn't need to bargain with her for. He could almost forget his impending doom as she thrust her tongue into his mouth.

The kiss was warm and tender, but verging on desperate. Jareth could hear Sarah's moan catching in her throat, but like all the others it ended before it began. She disengaged before they promptly landed on the hard stone ground of the portal chamber. Sevlydi and Toby stood over them as Jareth lay on his back with Sarah sprawled over him. She was quick to roll off him, racing to pull Toby into a hug.

Jareth groaned as he stood up. The first thing he noticed was the portal still stood, but it was pulsing with the black fog of the veil. The fog was hitting the glass-like material that separated their world from the veiling as if it was trying to butt its way in. He retrieved his cane off the ground and eyed the portal warily.

"We didn't think you would make it back," Sevlydi said, watching them both.

"Sarah saved us," Jareth informed him. Out of his periphery, he could see brother and sister still embracing.

"How?"

"Sarah, what did you do?" Jareth asked, not tearing his eyes away from the inky pitch hurling itself at the wall of glass.

"I just showed it my medallion." Sarah shrugged. "I showed it my authority."

"What was the shattering noise, then?"

"I had to get forceful with it." She released her brother from the hug. Jareth turned to look at her, noticing blood dripping off her chin. Claw marks covered her face, starting with gouges at the temples, but tapering off as the scratches dragged down her face.

"Sarah, your face!" Jareth stepped towards her.

"Changelings are violent." Sarah shrugged. "I learnt that the hard way."

"Not only did you break us out of the veil but you also fought a changeling." Jareth was in awe of his mortal wife. "I should never have let you go."

"Rubbish!" Sarah narrowed her eyes. "I got Toby back, and I got home. That's what we set out to do, and that's what we achieved."

"Sevlydi," Jareth summoned his brother. "Go and fetch a healer."

"His name is Gilo," Sarah said curtly. "He is your only healer, so it is pretty easy to name him."

"Sevlydi," Jareth repeated. "Go and fetch a healer."

"Sevlydi, please go and fetch Gilo," Sarah said, keeping her stare on Jareth. He just glanced at Toby who was watching them both, pensively.

"Your sister"— he gestured towards Sarah—"she is a worthy Queen, is she not?"

"I guess." Toby shrugged. "Sarah always hated Princesses and stories where the girl got rescued by the boy. So I am surprised to see her as a Queen."

"It wasn't like that," Jareth said at the same time as his wife.

"I rescued him," Sarah pointed towards him.

"And then she wanted to spite my father." Jareth grinned. "Either way, we are now happily married, aren't we, love?"

Sarah levelled a scowl at him. "Perhaps you could show Toby to his room while I wait for Gilo?"

"I will do that once the healer has seen you, my love." Jareth leant back against the wall, casting an eye over the portal again. His wife was more powerful than he had imagined. Fighting a changeling was no easy feat, and breaking out of a void like the one in the veil, was near impossible. He would have to station a permanent guard in this chamber in case anything else was set loose from the veil.

His thoughts left the ominous looking portal and moved back to his wife. Sarah seemed to have been happy to see him again by her reception. His fingers traced his lips where he still felt her burning kiss, lingering.

He flicked his eyes to Sarah, who was talking to Toby. She caught him touching his lips, and gave a sly smile before turning back to her brother. He appraised her wounds again with his eyes before the healer came marching in. They were certainly no trifling scratches. She was lucky to still have both her eyes.

Gilo went straight to his patient. The elderly elf placed his small carry trunk on the ground. Jareth watched as Gilo took stock of her cuts, and then applied a balm. He could tell she was trying not to show pain.

"This will need to be applied twice a day," Gilo said to the room. "It has some properties that will help fight the imp's magic."

"Imp?" Sarah questioned.

"Prince Sevlydi mentioned the changeling was of Impish origin, Your Majesty," Gilo held up another small vial of yellow liquid. "This one is for the Hirki bites. You will need a few drops in your bath."

"Hirki?" Sarah questioned. "The thing in the veil?"

"Yes." Gilo stood. "Your Majesty, I could show you my quarters, when it pleases you. That way, you always know where to find me."

Jareth bit his lip to stifle his amusement. Gilo was an extraordinary healer, but he quite disliked being ordered around. Suggesting to Sarah that she make herself familiar with his quarters, was a subtle hint that the monarchs should be going to him for healing and not the other way around. Sarah, the ever soft-hearted creature that she was, would adhere to the elf's directive.

"That will be most helpful." Sarah nodded. "Thank you, Gilo."

"Do you need to be seen as well, Your Majesty?" Gilo turned to Jareth.

"Of course not." Jareth waved his hand dismissively. "Do I look injured to you?"

"Well, yes," Gilo said, quietly. "Your mouth and face and clothes are covered in blood."

Jareth looked down to see his grey gloves stained in crimson; Sarah's blood.

Sevlydi sniggered as he reentered the chamber. "How long were you in the void for Jareth?"

"Not long enough," Jareth replied snidely.

"Long enough to get covered in—"

"There are children present," Sarah reminded them.

"Where?" Sevlydi looked around and gestured at the space.

"Toby is a child!" Sarah glared at Sevlydi.

"Toby is seventeen," Toby chirped up. "But I happen to agree. I don't want to know what my sister and her husband are up to."

"Let's all go and get cleaned up." Jareth clapped his hands. "Tobias, I will show you to your rooms."

They all trudged up the stairs back to the ground floor of the castle. Nobody spoke, and Jareth suspected they were all too weary. Sarah accompanied Toby and him to his new rooms where he was fed and orientated. Once she was reassured he would be comfortable she begged off to go and wash up. Jareth watched her go almost wistfully.

* * *

Sarah was lying in Jareth's bath. She didn't really know why, but she could not resist the impulse. The hot water stung her cuts and scratches, but it felt so good to wash off the blood and sweat from today. So many unexpected things had occurred. And she hadn't expected to have used the bit of information she had stumbled on when reading about breaking out of magical traps. Sarah wondered if her magic was helping strengthen her powers of memory because that would have been useful during exams.

After fighting off or possibly killing what she now knew to be called a Hirki, she thought she would be wandering aimlessly around that black void for eternity. She couldn't help but embrace Jareth when he found her. The kiss was one of relief, gratitude and something a bit more ineffable. It was a powerful feeling rescuing someone whose ego presumably couldn't handle being the victim, rather than the saviour.

It seemed a lifetime ago, but it was also the same day that Jareth and her had become more physical and intimate than just a shared kiss. Thinking about it now, her clit twinged and she closed her eyes, trying to think of something that wasn't Jareth. Lying in his bath naked, was not the best place for _not_ thinking about what they had done.

It was as she lay here with her eyes closed, that she became aware of Jareth's presence.

"Did you wish yourself to me again, Precious?"

"No," Sarah said with her eyes still firmly closed.

"You're in _my_ bath." She heard his body slide into the water and felt the resulting ripples lap against her neck.

"I was under the impression that I am Queen here," Sarah said, her eyes still closed. "So this is my bath too."

"Indeed." She could hear the smirk in his voice. "I am not complaining."

She opened her eyes and watched him running his fingers through his hair. She could see streaks of red running through his strands of blonde. Her blood was also still smeared over his lips and down his cheeks. She smiled at him as he stared at her.

"I didn't want to sully my bath with blood," she offered in explanation. Jareth chuckled, mirroring her former pose, with his eyes closed.

"I won't point out how the bath can be cleaned by magic then." He stretched an arm on the outside of the bath. "I don't want you to change your mind about being in this bath with me."

Sarah summoned a washcloth with her magic. Then, while he still had his eyes closed, she silently moved from her side to his. Jareth opened his eyes when she was directly in front of him.

"I am going to wash all my blood off you," Sarah offered in a commanding voice. Jareth's eyes darkened, but he nodded. Sarah placed her hands on the edge on either side of him. She pulled herself closer to him until she was straddling his lap, with her knees, either side of his thighs, resting on the underwater bench. There was no skin contact from this position, but it still seemed quite erotic. Jareth's eyes widened, but he kept his mouth closed. Sarah started dabbing his face with the cloth.

"Thank you for everything you did to let me bring Toby home," Sarah said as she ran the washcloth down his cheek.

"Thank you for calling this home." His hands grabbed her around her waist with one hand, while he started running long, tapered fingers down her spine with the other. "Thank you for trusting me enough to come home to me."

Sarah's hand stilled at his words. Her eyes fixed on his, and she felt vulnerable as if he could read all her thoughts with that one look. She cleared her throat and continued to wipe his face, moving down to his chin and then back up to his lips; the lips that she impulsively kissed when she realised she had rescued them both.

"Thank you also for your hug and kiss," Jareth said as she reached up to wipe the blood out of his hair. He was sitting higher in the water than she had been, so she became sensible of her nudity from her navel up. Jareth's hand that was on her waist came sliding up to cup her breast. "Just keeping you modest, love."

"A little uneven there, Jareth." Sarah brought her free hand up to cup her other breast. No longer supporting her weight on the edge of the bath, she rested her bottom on his lap. The skin contact seemed to unravel them both, as his eyes fluttered shut and she swallowed a moan. He opened his eyes and leant forward, he knocked her hand aside and planted a kiss just above her nipple.

"Now it is uneven," he said in a hoarse whisper, taking his hand away and kissing her other breast in the same spot. "Your breasts are as exquisite as I dreamt they were."

"You've dreamt about my breasts?" Sarah danced her fingertips down from his hair to his neck.

"All the time." He cupped both breasts, weighing them with his hands. "I only ever dream about you. Well, occasionally I have dreams about kicking goblins or flying in my owl form, but mostly you."

Jareth's thumbs started circling her nipples, while Sarah rested one hand on his shoulder and traced his cheek with her other.

"Your scar is healing nicely," Sarah observed. "What about your leg?'

"It is badly scarred and still very sore." Jareth tugged lightly on her nipples. "You don't want to see it."

"Is it that bad?"

"You will no longer see me as the flawless creature you admire," he said with a small smile, closing his eyes as her hand moved down from his shoulder to his chest.

"I don't anyway," Sarah said with a laugh before leaning in and leaving a kiss on his collarbone. "You're the ugliest creature I have ever seen."

"If you desire to see my leg, then perhaps you could massage the cream into it for me after our bath," Jareth suggested before he used his legs to tilt Sarah towards him. His mouth was suddenly leaving soft kisses on her jawline, her neck, across her collarbone and an open-mouthed kiss right above her heart. His hands slipped down her body to cup her bottom. Whether intentional or not, the new position meant she could now feel his erection hot against her body.

He dipped his head, caressing the curve of her breast with his lips, his silky hair tickling her chin as he moved. Sarah noticed he was carefully avoiding her face and arms, where the worst of the cuts were. She let out a groan as Jareth's mouth clamped onto her nipple. He sucked a few times before releasing it, only to then lave it with the tip of his tongue. He kissed between her breasts before repeating his actions with the other nipple.

"I want you." Jareth nestled his head between her breasts. "You exquisite, beautiful, infuriating creature."

Sarah's response was to push his head away from her, and plant a single kiss on his lips while running her nails lightly across the skin of his torso, then his legs. Jareth tried to recapture her lips, but Sarah ducked out of his reach, a wicked smile on her face. She weaved her fingers through his and prized them off her bottom. Then angling her feet, she lifted her body off him and pushed off the wall away from him.

"Then come and get me, you equally infuriating creature," Sarah called from the other side of the bath.

"You forgot 'beautiful and exquisite,'" Jareth said, immobile.

"I thought we were only using relevant adjectives," Sarah said, returning his smirk. Jareth cocked his head but still didn't give chase. She sighed and told him, "I guess you don't really want me then."

Without seeing him move, she suddenly felt him behind her. "Got you."

"You cheated!" She laughed as he wrapped his arms around. "You used magic."

"Well, we will try again, and I won't use magic." Jareth released her. "Ready, go."

Sarah dived beneath the water and rose at the other end for a breath, before going back under the surface. Jareth was swimming lazily on the top before he too dove under the water. Sarah watched him from the bottom, conscious of his nudity. He only kicked with one leg, and this brought the thick scarring on his other ankle to her attention. She was so surprised by the coils of scars etched into his skin, that she inhaled a mouthful of water. She shot to the top, coughing and spluttering. Jareth was right there, rubbing her back.

"What happened, Precious?"

"Your leg, Jareth," Sarah said between coughs. "It is so severe."

"It is what it is," he answered, letting her go.

She twisted in the water to face him. "I don't think I truly appreciated what you went through to save me. What you're still going through."

Jareth cupped her cheek, careful not to touch her scratches. "Right now, I have my wife, naked in my bath and willing to play games with me. Drat my leg, Sarah."

Once Sarah's coughing had abated, she slipped under the water, took in a mouthful of bathwater and came back up to spray it in Jareth's face. She jumped out of his reach as he startled.

"Wench!" He wiped the water out of his face. Sarah cackled as she backtracked away from him. She didn't get far before Jareth yet again had his arms around her naked body. He ran his fingers up her spine until his hand held the back of her neck, bringing her face closer to his. Jareth slanted his mouth over hers, pressing his lips against hers with both tenderness and intensity. Sarah responded by sliding her arms over his shoulders, then wrapping her legs around his waist. Jareth grunted into her mouth but held her easily due to the buoyancy of the water. His cock nestled against her mound as he stroked the back of her neck and cupped her bosom again, this time his fingers caressed and kneaded her breast.

Jareth's tongue penetrated her mouth, and the taste of luscious fruits invaded Sarah's sense of taste. His tongue was velvety smooth and sweet, and his probing was curious but not forceful enough to deter Sarah. As Sarah squeezed her thighs tighter around him, Jareth deepened the kiss, his cock twitching against her groin. Coming up for air, they rested their foreheads against each other while their hands still explored each other.

Jareth relocated both of them to the side of the bath, placing Sarah on the ledge, and then parting her legs with his hands. He inspected the zenith of Sarah's thighs with such greed that it sent shivers down to her core. Jareth's hands roamed down the creamy insides of her thighs before running his finger down the seam of her lips. Sarah arched her back to his touch.

"You are perfection," Jareth whispered. "May I taste you?"

The image of Jareth's mouth on her most intimate body part sent ribbons of pleasure right through every nerve. She nodded, almost frantically.

"Sarah," he murmured, still running his finger up and down the outside of her cunt. "Let me hear you say it."

"Taste me, Jareth," Sarah said, her eyes closing. He leaned forward, kissing her on the mouth, running fingers through her hair. The fingers of his other hand dipped inside her folds. Sarah gripped the edge until her knuckles were white, as desire rushed through her, pooling straight at her centre. Ripples of arousal flowed from her core up through her abdomen that had Sarah panting and writhing.

"Queenie, Kingy," came a voice, echoing off the tiles of the bathroom. Sarah shrieked, slinking into the bath to hide her nudity. Jareth pulled her close to him, to help with her dignity, while he stared the intruder down. It was Grygiel, one of the superior goblins.

"What is it?" Jareth said in a tone that belied his impatience.

"A messenger arrived!" Grygiel bowed low. He left a scroll on one of the tables and then retreated towards the exit. "Your Majesties."

"It's from my father." Jareth scowled, as he detached himself from Sarah and climbed out of the bath. Sarah followed suit, grabbing two towels from the shelves. She wrapped one around her frame and then wrapped the second around Jareth's hips. He gave her a cursory glance, showing his surprise at her gesture before he opened the scroll. "They have officially petitioned for war."

Sarah sighed and rubbed her forehead. Following the fluctuations of the day, she was abruptly remarkably exhausted. Jareth caught her yawn, so he folded up his letter.

"Let's get dressed and go to bed." He shook his hand that he was holding the scroll with and it disappeared into the ether. "We will look at this tomorrow."

Another wave of his hand and instead of towels, they were in their nightclothes. Jareth held his hand out to her, lowering his voice, "Come, Precious. Let us get some respite."

Sarah had been sleeping in her own room since the wedding, and it was only yesterday that they had watched each other through the crystals. It was only this morning that they had that intimate moment in the Library. They were suddenly moving at breakneck speed. Jareth stoked the fire with those crystals, but she was the one burning. She craved his touch, but after the events of the day, she acknowledged he was right. She needed sleep.

Jareth seemed to assume that she would be joining him in his bed as he gathered his cane and led her to his room. He turned the bed down and climbed in, waiting for her. She glanced at the secret tunnel and then back at Jareth. She climbed into bed with him, not missing his look of glee.

"Thank you for coming back, my love," he murmured. "Thank you for rescuing me and thank you— _thank_ you for living."

Sarah summoned her cream. She had become prodigiously skilled at summoning-magic over the past few days. She started lathering it into her skin, as Gilo had told her, aware that Jareth watched her, expectantly.

"Would you still like me to do your leg, Jareth?" she asked. He nodded, passing her his balm. She opened it as he slipped his leg out of the sheets and pulled his trouser leg up. Sarah winced at the sight of his flesh carved with fiery, red welts and scars. She applied a liberal amount to her hands and started firmly massaging it into his leg. Jareth groaned as her fingers grazed the fibrous scars.

"Oh, did I hurt you?"

"No!" Jareth shook his head empathetically. "It feels exceedingly pleasant."

"A right pair we are," Sarah said with a feeble laugh. "Covered in scars from head to toe."

"A pair, yes," Jareth said with his eyes closed. "We are both still beautiful, even with the deep scars on the inside."

Sarah slowed her hands to look at his face. "Were you hurt by my refusal of you?"

"The first time?" He grinned. "Or all the subsequent times?"

"The first time."

"Yes," he said, opening his eyes to return her stare. "I have never met anyone that would throw away their dreams as you did, Sarah. No one has refused me as you denied me. It did hurt, especially when the pearl preordained our marriage."

"Well, you got your destiny." Sarah finished rubbing the cream in and popped the lid back on. "I married you."

"Yes." Jareth closed his eyes again. "One victory down, but we still do not know if our moonstones match."

Sarah tensed. She thought of the moonstone hidden in her wall. Despite how intimate they had been, she was still keeping her feelings out of it. As soon as her lungs started screaming in pain, Sarah revived her breathing again.

"I suspect you know already though don't you?" he asked, not even feigning innocence.

Sarah placed the jar of cream on the bedside cabinet and then crawled under the sheets.

"Goodnight, Jareth," she said quietly. Jareth sighed and rolled over on to his side, away from her.

"Goodnight, Sarah."

* * *

The next day passed slowly. Jareth read out the letter to Sarah and Sevlydi. Their 'crimes' were numerous, mostly related to insubordination, derelict of duty and breaking of Navas laws and customs. The crimes dated back to Jareth letting Toby 'escape' and releasing the wisher away without consequence.

They had planned on showing Toby the Kingdom and making him feel at home. Instead, they debated their strategy with a whole platoon of goblins present; fearsome-looking goblins, unlike those in the castle or the Labyrinth; all red eyes and sharp claws. Not the bumbling, cartoonish goblins that she had come to adore. Well, maybe not so much adoration as respect.

"I have some news," Sevlydi announced, placing a piece of parchment on the table. "I have scouts reporting to me over from Navas. We had a lot of hypotheses about who was responsible for all the kidnapping, but now we know their accuracy."

"Do tell." Jareth reclined in his seat as he listened. Sarah found herself tensing up.

Sevlydi went on to confirm that the Pinnsburrs had been Sarah's kidnappers. They also had burnt down Robert and Karen's house while Toby was with his aunt. Omre and Nudalun had been the ones to insert changelings into the aunt and uncle's place. It was a loophole they had found when they realised the Pinnsburrs couldn't touch him. They couldn't reach him with magic, but they could still torment him with magical creatures. Omre and Nudalun had captured the real aunt and uncle, and they believed they were still in the dungeons of Navas.

It was pure spite that had led them to plan this entire scheme. By maltreating Toby, they would injure Sarah, and by hurting Sarah, they would unnerve the Goblin King. They had learnt that Sarah was his weakness. At this, Sarah let out a bark of laughter that both brothers ignored. Sevlydi commenced as if nothing happened. He pointed out that this had been the same motivation for kidnapping Sarah as soon as they could cross the veil at Samhain. The Pinnsburrs believed that they would entice the Goblin King with Sarah as bait, as they had eventually done at the ball.

Their main goal was destroying the Goblin King. And this motivation was shared by Omre and Nudalun because they simply disliked Jareth. So they had given Meffod and Yarbro anything they had needed to get the job done. They hadn't banked on the Labyrinth protecting Sarah from scrying — from any parties, Jareth included. When Jareth also escaped the Pinnsburrs, the Navas siblings took it upon themselves to employ the Vile-Brownies to do their dirty work.

Their entire reasoning was a power-play, to show Jareth what they were capable of inflicting upon him. It was also their righteous punishment for dragging his heels about who they wanted him to marry, and depriving the Underground fae of a child. But mostly, Sevlydi pointed out, it was because they didn't like their brother. The last bit of information Sevyldi shared was proof that Glib had been the goblin, pivotal to their plotting and espionage. This reminded Sarah they still hadn't punished him.

It was all things they had suspected and pieced together, but it was enough to have confirmation of it all. Sarah sat in silence at the cruelty Nudalun and Omre committed against their own brother.

"None of this would have happened if I never wished Toby away." She slammed the palm of her hand down on the table after a few minutes to digest all this information. "Your family are pathetic for punishing you for following the rules their council set down about the Labyrinth."

"I also got rewarded." He smiled wanly at her. "The rewards outweigh the punishment."

"Be that as it may," Sarah began sceptically, "but now we have a war looming, another human taken away from his Aboveground life, and possibly the destruction of our entire Kingdom. When will the punishments cease?"

"No-one said we would lose the war, precious." Jareth propped his foot upon the table.

"People will die!" Sarah slammed her palm down again. "Whether we 'win' the war, we will lose lives. No conflict is worth it."

They argued together in this vein for most of the day. Eventually, the three of them had cobbled together battle plans, and Sarah left to spend the afternoon with Toby. Jareth had employed ChipChop to show Toby around and keep him company while the rest of them were closeted in the war room. A room that Jareth had created fit for purpose.

Toby was delighted to see Sarah, yet astounded to discover his relatives were both living but imprisoned in Navas. She recounted some of her tales, leaving out any allusions to her original trip. Sarah wasn't willing to report that she had wished Toby away to the goblins quite yet. Sarah would have to, and soon, but Toby had enough information to absorb in one day.

Toby in turn recounted how his relatives/changelings had made his life miserable. Toby had mustered up some serious inner strength to stand up to their abuses. They never physically touched him, and he was fed, clothed and still allowed to attend school. But it was always the bare minimum.

After dinner, Sarah made her own way to bed. Jareth was regaling Toby with some of the more humorous exploits of his goblins and chickens, so she left them to it. Jareth had assured her that he put one of his most trusted goblins outside Toby's door so there would be no sneaking around the castle while they slept. It was reassuring, but also endearing that Jareth was so considerate.

After her bath with the ointment and then the application of her cream, she climbed into Jareth's bed to read a book. It was a novel she had found in the library: a romance between a fae princess and a mortal man. She was lost within its pages when Jareth appeared out of thin air. He momentarily looked surprised to see her there, but then offered a warm smile. Sarah fidgeted slightly but resumed reading her book.

"To what do I owe the pleasure of you in my bed?" He started unbuttoning his vest as he stood there.

"We have unfinished business," Sarah said without looking up.

"We do!" She could hear his grin. "I took the liberty of putting Grygiel on Bog Security Detail for the remainder of the lunar calendar. I am sure you don't mind."

Sarah gave an incredulous laugh. "It wasn't his fault, and he was right to interrupt us."

"Just so." Jareth pulled his boots off. "But I chose to deal with my frustrations in an adult manner, rather than just bogging him. I thought you would be proud, my love."

"Oh, prodigiously." Sarah smirked, her book lay forgotten in her lap as she watched him start to peel his gloves off with his teeth. "Maybe the gloves could stay on."

Jareth's brow rose, but silently, he slipped his glove back on. He removed his shirt, his eyes intent on Sarah's face, when he suggested, "you can remove my pants."

Sarah threw the blanket aside and strode towards him. She took his cane off him as she pushed him back onto the bed. Straight away, she slid her fingers into the top of his trousers, then worked them down his hips. Sarah ignored his cock as it unfurled from its prison, and pushed the trousers the rest of the way off. He lay naked on his bed, watching her.

"Robe off," he rasped. "Now."

Sarah slipped the silk robe off, revealing that she was also naked underneath. Without waiting for further instruction, she pounced on him, straddling his hips and kissing from his chest up to his mouth.

"We can do this slowly, Sarah," he said huskily.

"Or we could do it fast," Sarah said aggressively. She positioned herself over his erection, grinding her groin against the tip. Jareth bit his lip as he watched her through lidded eyes. Sarah felt the cool silk of the gloves graze her skin as he ran them down from her shoulders to her waist. She let out a moan as they travelled past the sides of her breasts. Sarah ran her hands up to his chest, to rub fingertips lightly over his nipples. She repeated the actions with her tongue, sending Jareth bucking under her.

He slid one gloved hand between her legs, inserting a finger into her folds. Sarah shuddered and moaned as the butter-soft material caressed her clit. She felt ready to come instantly. She grabbed his hand and gave the offending digit a casual lick before lowering herself to his erection, positioning it at the entry.

"We can slow down, love," Jareth grunted. "You haven't even kissed me yet."

Sarah just wanted release, not romance, so she just bared her teeth at Jareth and started guiding his hard cock into her vagina. She had got as far as the tip when she felt suddenly very strange. Dizziness overcame her and it felt like every atom in her body was trying to go somewhere else. She looked at Jareth who was scowling deeply.

"What's happening?" Sarah shuddered but not in a good way. "Is this some kind of curse for trying to fuck you?"

"No!" She had never seen Jareth so angry. His face had morphed into some unrecognisable visage of pure loathing. The next thing Sarah noticed was that she was suddenly clothed, as was Jareth. They were both in their Goblin Monarch attire. Sarah baulked and then slid off Jareth as he straightened.

"I have to go," he said, with a deadly promise laced in his voice, his black armour matching his mood.

"So do I," Sarah said as magic continued to tug on her every atom. "What's going on?"

"A wish!" He scowled deeper. "Your husband passed the book onto someone who has used it. They have summoned me."

"They have summoned us both," Sarah corrected, feeling like she was being dragged apart cell by cell.

"You will stay here," Jareth ordered as he threw himself out of bed, his cloak swished threateningly as he collected his cane.

"The fuck I will," Sarah gasped. "The magic is trying to rip me apart."

"Can you turn into an owl?" Jareth asked with a sneer.

"Not yet." She wrapped her arms around herself.

"Then you can't come!" He shook his head and went to the door. Sarah followed him.

"I have to go." Sarah gripped his arm. "I can't refuse."

Jareth looked at her, _really_ looked at her. His anger seemed to soften as he saw her shivering in pain. He swept her figure with a pitying look and nodded. "You're right. You can not refuse the magic of a calling. Even I can not circumvent it; however much I desire your safety. Come, we need to check if the baby has arrived in the throne room before we make our grand entrance."

He stuck her arm under his elbow and transported them to the throne room. There in the centre pit, was a squally baby held by Cricket and Cookie. Jareth knelt at the edge and ran his fingers over the baby's forehead and then straightened.

"Come, Sarah." Jareth tugged her close to him. "We have our duty."

He led her to the window. "The Labyrinth's magic should be enough to convert you into an owl. Then just follow me."

Sarah peered over the edge at the long drop to the ground. "You just mocked my lack of ability."

"That was before I truly realised the hold the calling had over you, Sarah. I apologise for my briskness."

"I think I may die, Jareth."

"Do you think I would let that happen?" He cupped her cheek. "The only one who will die tonight is the one who interrupted us."

Sarah flinched, uncertain if he was serious or not. "It was just sex, Jareth. Not worth murdering for."

Jareth said nothing and just jumped through the window, elegantly converting into an owl. He circled above Sarah while she stepped up onto the edge. She closed her eyes, and jumped, trusting Jareth that it wouldn't be to her death.

* * *

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Yes. I cockblocked them twice in one chapter. Had to be done haha. 
> 
> Fifteen years since the last wished away baby... next chapter we learn who wished away their baby. :'(
> 
> And yay! Toby is back, but boo, so much is going on, Sarah hasn't had much time to reacquaint herself with him. 
> 
> Thank you, readers and reviewers. We are so close to the end. Ahhhhhh (finally). I never imagined this story would be quite so....bulky LOL. I have only deviated from the initial plot I mapped out in one or two small areas. Achievement: Unlocked Haha. 


	24. Chapter Twenty Three

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

She didn't die.

Sarah jumped out the window with her eyes closed, and her heart in her throat, but instantly the magic took hold in a flurry of feathers and twisting bones, converting her painlessly to an owl. Sarah opened her eyes to see the labyrinth unfurling under her as she soared behind Jareth. She followed him on an intuitive level she was sure was part of the magic. Flying was heady and intoxicating, only dampened by the reason she was soaring through the skies.

They went higher and higher until suddenly they both flipped upside down, and Sarah knew they were now Aboveground. It was night, and of course, a storm was raging across the cityscape. Sarah righted herself and let the magic lead her to a porch outside an apartment building. They both landed on the railing together and the next instant they were standing in full goblin armour on the balcony.

"Anything look familiar?" Jareth whispered as Sarah panted from the thrill and the exhilaration of flying.

"No, but I still think it is New York," Sarah muttered, looking out across the damp, noisy city. At Jareth's confused look, Sarah clarified with, "New York is where I was living before—"

"I think you ought to stay here." Jareth approached the balcony door. "They sometimes get violent."

"Well, they probably will if you threaten to kill them for interrupting us," Sarah said, with an impish smile.

"Don't remind me," he cursed. "Just listen to me for once and stay here. We don't know what's on the other side of the door."

"If it satisfies that magic that I am here, then fine." Sarah didn't want to face her past decision reflected back at her by another person. She would be quite happy to relive her flying experience in her mind, anyway. "Just don't murder anyone, Jareth."

Jareth pushed the door open without a word and strode in with minimal reliance on his cane.

* * *

Jareth marched into the darkened room. He let lightning illuminate the room only to discover that his 'wisher' was a male too busy wanking to notice him.

"Go and shut that door," said a sleepy female voice. "It has burst open again."

"In a minute," the male grunted. "I am nearly done."

"For fuck's sake," the female whisper-yelled. "It is your third fucking time tonight. Just go and shut the fucking door."

"Well, if you just let me fuck you I wouldn't have to fucking wank, now would I?" The male threw his blanket off and stormed towards Jareth completely nude.

"I have just had a fucking baby," the female answered just as the male realised Jareth was standing there with his arms on his hips.

"What the fuck?" he yelled. "Get out of my house."

"Who the hell are you?" The female scrambled out of bed. "If you wake the baby, I will murder you."

"Your baby is safe, and asleep I assure you," Jareth said, calmly, after the commotion died down. He peered at the male standing partly in shadows. There was something familiar about him.

"What the fuck?" The female blanched and backed away towards the door. "How do you know she's asleep?"

"My goblins have the babe," Jareth said simply. "You wished the child away, and the goblins obliged."

"Jo, go and check on Abby," the male said to his partner, without taking his eyes off Jareth. "Hey, do I know you?"

'Jo' left in a hurry, leaving them alone. "I don't believe you do."

"Nah...nah...nah, you're familiar," he said as he squinted. "Now, get out before I call the cops."

"I am the Goblin King." Jareth gestured to his armour. "You just summoned my goblins to take your child away."

"I jokingly wished her away," the man scoffed. "Jo is always tired, and she wouldn't put out. I didn't actually wish my child away. None of this is real..."

"What's said is said." Jareth studied his gloves with a well-practised air of boredom. He didn't even bother asserting that it was real. All too often the wishers would beg of him that it was 'just a dream.' He was never swayed by their pleas. Sarah had never once questioned the reality of his appearance. That had made her different from every other runner he had encountered. Sure, she asked for the baby back, but she never dismissed his corporeality. Sarah had truly believed in him.

"I will phone the police," the man threatened again. Jareth had heard that one before too.

"And much good it would do you." Jareth gave a cold laugh, turning away from the repellent man to inspect some trinkets on the dresser. "Do you want your child back?"

"Get out of my house." The man still shamelessly naked, stepped forward again. It was then he noticed a dusty picture frame right at the back of the dresser. He catalogued the photo for later perusal.

"I take it you do not want your child back then." Jareth levelled a stare at the mortal. His barely contained anger simmered just under the surface. He had been about to make love to his wife only to be interrupted by this literal 'wanker' who didn't even have the decency to cower in fear in his presence. He was tempted to slay the human on the spot, but an image of Sarah's crestfallen and disappointed face haunted him, and he knew he had to give this limp bog potato a chance to redeem himself.

"My child isn't missing," the moist fiddlehead replied, in a cocksure manner. "You shimmied up the drainpipe dressed as a gay fairy to try and what? Intimidate me?"

"I assure you, your child is missing, as your wife is just about to inform you." Jareth turned back to face the door, watching Jo run through, pale, distraught and crying.

"She's gone," Jo shrieked, gripping her partner's arms. "Abby is gone."

"Phone the fucking cops," the bog-turnip ordered, raising his fists to Jareth. Jo ran out hysterically to presumably do just that. "Give me back my baby."

"Certainly." Jareth waved his hand and produced a crystal. "You can either run the Labyrinth and win the child back, or you could take your dreams."

"My dreams?" The swamp cabbage watched the crystal weaving between Jareth's hands. He could see the temptation in his expression that had been devoid from Sarah's visage all those years ago. The cabbage lowered his hands from their aggressive stance. His eyes lit up and widened, and a devious smile curled his lips. That was until it slid off his face when he was interrupted.

"What the fuck, Mark?" Jareth turned around to see his Sarah, with her arms crossed and a look of thunder on her face. _Mark? This wasn't her ex-husband, was it?_ He turned back to face the other male who looked equally perplexed. But as Jareth watched him, anger replaced his shock.

"Sarah?" Mark shouted. "You fucking cow, where the fuck have you been for the last three years?"

Jareth approached the dresser again and retrieved the photo frame. He knew there was something familiar about it. Inside the frame the naked man stood, dressed instead, in an impeccably tailored suit, with Sarah dressed in a white dress on his arm. Both wore massive smiles, though Jareth observed the smile did not reach Sarah's eyes. It was a charlatan's smile; an actress's smile.

"Did you just wish a child away, so you get more sex?" Sarah cried furiously. "Do you have any idea what you have done?"

"I have had the police questioning me for three years, you fucking bitch," he yelled. "And you didn't even have the decency to be fucking dead. Well, the police will be here soon, so they will know I didn't kill you. Instead, you ran away with some gay fairy to kidnap children."

"Mark, will you listen to reason?" Sarah pushed past Jareth to stand right in front of him. "You need to go and get the child back."

"It's _my_ child Sarah," Mark gloated, raising his eyebrows and grinning with malice. "It seems it wasn't my fault we couldn't have children after all."

Jareth saw the blood leave Sarah's face as she stepped back. Protectiveness unfurled inside his heart, clenching and unclenching the organ.

"Enough of this!" Jareth stepped forward, bringing his wife back into the circle of his arms. "You have thirteen hours to run the Labyrinth or —"

"Or what, fairy boy?" Mark laughed, brushing his floppy blonde hair out of his face. Jareth clenched his teeth at the realisation of how similar he was to this ogre's toenail. "You think you will get away from the cops?"

"Your law enforcement officers are no match for me," Jareth replied, in his most menacing tone. Jareth frowned at his further realisation that Sarah seemed to accept that brutish arguing and bickering was part and parcel of being lovers. It made sense that she would rather hurl invectives at a paramour when that was all she had received from her ex-husband. Sarah utilised it as a defence mechanism. He glanced at her, fired up and passionate with her hands on her hips and a scowl levelled at Mark. It was his duty to show her a more positive way to channel her passions.

"My wife will end up in jail where her arse belongs, and you can enjoy getting men's cocks in your arse for the rest of your days." Mark grinned. Jareth tilted his head to the side. How had Sarah put up with such a ghastly bigot?

"I am not your wife," Sarah said with venom.

"No, but I bet you miss this..." Mark smirked, grabbing his cock. Jareth bellowed with laughter. Mark's smirk flipped to a scowl. "Are you jealous, fairy boy? Your cock not big enough to fuck all those men you desire?"

"Mark, when did you become such an utterly despicable creature?" Sarah shook her head.

"Fuck off, Princess Perfect!" Mark glared at her. "Just look at you all dressed up. You always had a screw loose."

"At least I wasn't a loose screw," Sarah countered. "And at least I am not homophobic."

Jareth sighed. "Look, as much as I am enjoying this, can we please get on with it?"

"Whatever, Sarah." Mark ignored Jareth. "You never gave yourself completely to me. You may not have fucked others, but you certainly never gave yourself to me emotionally."

"I am not having this argument with you again, Mark." She pinched the bridge of her nose. "There was no-one else. You were paranoid and delusional, and quite frankly, hypocritical. You just projected your guilt onto me."

"I would never have had to cheat on you if you were there for me more," Mark accused.

Sarah laughed. "I am not some naive twat like the girls with which you have affairs. I don't buy your emotional blackmailing, so just give it up."

"You're such a bitch, Sarah!" He shook his head. "If you weren't such a bitch, your friends wouldn't need to come to me for comfort."

"Why, who have you managed to get to fuck you now?" Sarah asked indifferently.

"Jo and I just had a baby," Mark said proudly. "One that you have stolen probably because of your lack of ability to have any."

"We haven't stolen the child," Jareth reiterated with a long-suffering sigh. "Again, you wished the child away. Now, for the umpteenth time, do you want your child back or not?"

"Of course I do," Mark answered.

"So you are willing to forfeit your dreams?" Jareth presented the crystal again. Mark's mouth flopped open, but before he had a chance to answer, Jo came back in the room, sobbing. She stopped as soon as she saw Sarah.

"Sarah?" Jo, who was a mousy, short woman with no shortage of freckles, flicked her brown eyes to Jareth before darting back to Sarah. "We thought you were dead."

"No, not dead." Sarah shrugged. "Sorry to disappoint."

"Are you kidding?" Jo sniffed. "We're friends, of course, I am not disappointed you're alive. But—"

Sarah raised a brow and threw a pointed look at Mark. Jo seemed to crumble again at her silence.

"Where is my baby, Sarah?" Jo asked, sobbing afresh.

"She is in the Castle at the centre of the Labyrinth, well looked after," Sarah assured her. "Mark has to decide whether to take his dreams or find his child that he wished away."

"Mark?" Jo hiccoughed. "What have you done?"

"Sarah!" Mark turned to her. "This joke isn't funny. Give me back my child."

"It is no joke, Mark." Sarah shook her head. She glanced at Jareth, and when he saw the pain in her eyes he wanted nothing more than to whisk her away from this beastly quagmire-leek.

"So you're telling me that you disappeared for three years to become a child-stealing fairy?" Mark laughed.

"You wished the child away, Mark," Sarah said exasperated.

"I did!" Mark shrugged. "But it was a _joke_."

"What did you do Mark?" Jo screamed. "You know she always believed in fairies, and she probably concocted this plot against you. They probably have been spying on us."

"Don't be ridiculous," Sarah snapped. "Why on earth would I want to do that?"

"Revenge for everything and him ending up with me," Jo pointed out. "It's very elaborate, but not funny, so just give us our child back. Just because you didn't want one of your own—"

"I don't seek revenge on that homophobic bag of shit," Sarah snapped incredulously. "I don't know how clear I have to make this, but I never wanted anything more to do with him."

"Yet, here you are." Jo stuck her hand on her hip.

"Yes, because he made a wish, and we are granting it." Sarah pointed between herself and Jareth.

"The book only mentions the Goblin King, Sarah," Mark argued, feebly.

"Yes, but he has since married!" Jareth threaded his arm around Sarah's waist. "And this is the Goblin Queen you so rudely abuse."

"You married her?" Mark hooted. "Word of warning between us males, she is an ice Queen and will leave your balls blue for weeks."

"That has not been my experience." Jareth gripped his wife tighter giving Mark a pointy smile. He half expected her to blush, but she just set her jaw and glared harder at her mortal husband.

"For now!" Mark shrugged. "She will get bored, and she will only care about her own needs. Don't say I didn't warn you."

"Then it is my job to see that she is sufficiently entertained, preferably by me and that her needs are met." Jareth bared his teeth in disgust at his predecessor. "Also preferably, by me."

"If only, he wasn't a gay fairy," Mark said, turning to Sarah. "Then he really would be the perfect match for you."

"He isn't gay, Mark," Sarah said, indifferently. "If one was to label him, I guess pansexual would work."

Mark scoffed with disbelief. "His pants are stuffed with three pairs of socks and are tight as fuck, and he is wearing make-up. He is as gay as a pansy."

"It isn't make-up." Sarah swiped a finger over his markings. "They are his fae markings. His pants are _not_ stuffed with three pairs of socks but granted, they are tight as fuck. Trust me when I say, there is no need for him to stuff his pants."

Mark's eyes dropped down to his bulge and then back to Sarah's face. Jareth smirked, smug in the knowledge that his wife was on his side. She could have hung him out to dry, and been as snarky as she is with him when they are alone. But faced with a common enemy, she showed her loyalty to him, even if it was just loyalty to his cock.

"I call bullshit," Mark declared, loudly.

"Are we going to argue about whose cock is bigger all night, or are you going to make your choice?" Sarah produced her own crystal. "I want you to stop talking, Mark. Just nod or shake your head when we ask you a question."

She tossed the crystal at her mortal husband, hitting him in the chest. Jareth watched as Mark tried to talk, but no sound came out. Jareth was impressed at how fast and with minimal training his wife was getting the hang of her magic.

"Mark, nod if you want to choose your dreams." Sarah indicated the crystal in Jareth's palm.

"Don't you dare nod," Jo screeched. Jareth presumed Sarah's flashy show of magic was enough to convince her that this was real and not some nefarious revenge plot. "Don't you fucking dare."

"Nod if you want to retrieve your child," Sarah said after Mark remained still.

Mark nodded slowly, his eyes on the crystal.

"Wise choice," Sarah said. She leaned forward and in lower tones, said to him, "in the short time I have been married to Jareth, he has shown that he is capable of being a better husband than you, and that is what matters. Not the size of your cock. But before you resume talking, you should know that in fact, you do have the smaller penis."

Jareth smirked again, though his heart pounded at her public declaration of him as a husband. And a better husband than her mortal spouse. It did cross his mind, however, that the bar was set low as he had wished his own child away just because he was horny.

"Where is the red book?" Sarah asked Jo. "The one titled 'The Labyrinth.'"

"In the babies room," Jo answered in a shaky voice.

"Fetch it," Sarah ordered. She released herself from his side as soon as Jo left. Sarah started pacing up and down the room. Jareth watched her pick up a pair of jeans and a shirt that was crumpled on the floor and throw them at the silent Mark.

"Put these on," she ordered. "You've embarrassed yourself enough."

"We really need to get back," Jareth reminded her. He observed her throwing another crystal at the human.

"We will as soon as I have the book." Sarah came to stand in front of Jareth. "But I wonder, what will happen to the children who would be better off coming to live Underground — don't worry he can't hear us— all the abused children that would have decent lives with our human settlements, like Ghent."

"The Labyrinth will find another way to gather children, Sarah," Jareth said with a sigh. "Having the book in our possession will slow it down, but you're right, it won't end the trade completely. Let's focus on getting this challenge underway."

"Stupid wishes in the heat of the moment are perhaps different from those that would wish away their child to give them a better life then they could offer, surely?"

"Yes, indeed," Jareth said in a measured tone. "As I said, I do not think removing the book from circulation will stop all wishes, but it will stop the wished away children being Stolen Pearls. It allows us, as you say to regain the power of adoption to humans again."

"Because the book came into being as part of the curse?" Sarah asked.

"Yes, children were wished away before the book existed," Jareth explained, eyeing the mute and apparently deaf Mark who was beetroot red in either humiliation or anger. "And they will be wished away long after the book has been destroyed. But they won't be tied to the magic of the book, so the fae can not lay claim to them. We get to select the families again. You and I will be able to ensure those wished away children have happy and healthy lives as our subjects."

Jo came back in and flung the book at Sarah, before collapsing upon the ground in hysterics. Sarah picked it up and tucked it into her chest plate. Sarah tossed another crystal at Mark, who grabbed his ears and throat.

"What did you do to me?" he shouted.

"You were wasting time." Sarah walked back to Jareth's side. "You have chosen to retrieve your child. So let us begin."

"Mark, you have thirteen hours to solve the Labyrinth before your child becomes one of us, forever," Jareth said in a bored tone. Mark wasn't worth demonstrating any sparkle or flair. He waved his hand holding the cane out behind him, and Mark gasped as he noticed the Labyrinth sprawled out below their balcony. Jareth sent a sleep spell via crystal to the hyperventilating Jo. If Mark failed, she wouldn't even remember she had a baby. Mark, on the other hand, would remember for the rest of his life.

The three of them moved to the sandy hill. Mark seemed to swagger slightly as he walked past the two monarchs. The clock appeared, and Jareth told him in a very lacklustre tone, that his time had started.

"I will beat this easily," Mark said confidently. "Why not just give me my child back to save you the embarrassment?"

"Goodbye, Mark!" Sarah grabbed Jareth's arm, and they both transported back to the castle.

* * *

Sarah collapsed on the floor of the throne room as soon as they had landed. She rested her head in her hand and tried not to sob. Mark had touched a very sore nerve; one that she had buried deep within her. Sarah spied the wee baby, fast asleep, curled up in the centre pit with Cookie for company.

"Well, that was —" Jareth stopped talking, so she looked up to see Jareth with an expression akin to concern plastered on his face. "What did that cockroach of a husband mean when he said you couldn't have children?"

Sarah looked at him from between her fingers but then lowered her hands in defeat.

"It wasn't so much that I couldn't have children." Sarah shrugged. "It was that I didn't want any."

"Well, that is understandable if that man was to be the father." Jareth shook his head in disgust. His armour dissolving in an instant, leaving him standing in a loose flowy white shirt and tan leather trousers.

"I have never told anyone this." Sarah bit her lip. "I only tell you now because you need to understand why I married that man."

"Yes, well that was my next question," Jareth said, jerking his head back in disbelief.

"He was charming to start with," she explained. "And I think I told you how much he needed me, and how it felt powerful. Well, I grew tired of his clinginess, and he grew weary of being emasculated by me. I earnt more money, had a better job, and so on. When the balance of power shifted, things were a bit better. He proposed. I accepted. Then before we got married I—"

Sarah paused. The pain from what she was about to divulge was still raw. Jareth knelt in front of her and placed his hand on her knee. "I am listening."

"This is the bit no one in the world knows but Mark and I." Sarah felt hot tears splash down her cheeks. Jareth wiped them away gently with his gloved fingers. "Before we got married, I fell pregnant. I had been wavering about whether to marry him or not. He hadn't cheated on me yet, at least not that I know of, anyway. But I felt like I was simply leading him on when I didn't love him anymore; hadn't really loved him for years."

Sarah paused and studied Jareth's face through her tears. He remained concerned and interested, but there was no other discernible feeling in his expression.

"Of all the things for me to do," Sarah went on, hating the high pitched tone of her voice, "falling pregnant was never my plan. And I had taken precautions. At first, I wanted to have an abortion, but I couldn't go through with it. My own childhood bled into my decision-making process once I had decided to keep the baby. I would never abandon my child as my mother had abandoned me. So I went through with the wedding. I have already told you it was a nightmare, but I was also trying to hide the fact I was pregnant."

Sarah sniffed, and Jareth handed her a handkerchief. "How careless of me to overlook giving you this."

Sarah waved him off. "Don't worry, Jareth."

She wiped her face and blew her nose before continuing. "I lost the baby."

"Oh, Sar-ah!" Jareth pulled her into his lap and cradled her against his chest. Sarah found the embrace, and his heartbeat, comforting and soothing as desolation weaved through her.

"I blamed myself," she whimpered. "Losing the baby was my punishment for wishing Toby away. It was several weeks after we got married. Mark blamed me too. Then he got angry. It was like I had created a monster. He blamed me for not wanting to try for another baby straight away. Then shortly after that loss, my parents were murdered by the Pinnsburrs. Then I caught him with my best friend in one of the lounges at the funeral parlour. So I found my courage, and I divorced him."

Jareth was rocking her like she was a baby, as her tears spilt down his chest. "You are not to blame, Sarah. Not at all. He should have comforted you for your loss, not become angry with you."

"It was his loss too!" Sarah sniffed, inhaling Jareth's unique scent which had a calming effect on her. "And he was very good to me during the miscarriage and afterwards. Right up until he started asking for sex again."

"He was allowed to be angry with his grief, Sarah, but not for your unwillingness to try again." Jareth held her tighter as Sarah curled her fists into his shirt. "I appreciate you telling me this."

"I didn't know myself when I was with him," Sarah shook her head. "The determined child that beat your Labyrinth was lost to me."

"No, my love," he crooned. "You still showed strength during adversity. You came out of all your trials that much stronger."

"I should have had the courage to leave him well before I even accepted his proposal," Sarah said, thickly. "I never even wanted to get married. I do not know what possessed me. Where did that dragon-fighting girl go?"

"She is right here in my arms," Jareth declared, kissing her on the top of her head. "She stands before a fae as an equal; she stands before a king as his equal. And sometimes she stands in front of a fae King as his superior."

Jareth stopped rocking her, and she could feel his muscles tense up.

"What's wrong?"

"I am angry," Jareth hissed. "I am angry that I could not be there to stop all of this from happening to you. And I am furious that I contributed to your trauma by deceiving you further. I have caused you more damage than healing. That stops now. From now on, we will heal together."

They sat like that, without a word for quite some time. Jareth stroked her hair and rocked her gently while she cried into his chest.

"I can no longer blame you for not wanting to get married again." Jareth's voice rumbled against her ear as he spoke. "I won't apologise for you ending up married to me, but I will apologise that you again felt obliged to accept. Sarah, you deserve to marry someone you love; that you can accept with your heart and not just your mind."

"I thought I loved him," Sarah admitted. "I did. It was only on reflection that I learnt that I didn't love him. Not like I should have."

"Not that he deserved it." Jareth ran his fingers down her spine. "He didn't deserve you. I didn't like him the moment I met him."

"Well, you were there to take his child." Sarah sniffed. "It is probably customary for you to hate the wishers on sight."

"I saw him before that." Jareth had one hand still stroking her hair, which sent tingle after tingle down her spine, meeting up with the ones he had produced with his hand soothing her back. "At that party where you had disguised yourself as a cat. He called you a lot of colourful names."

"Was 'slut' one of them?" Sarah asked.

"I believe so, yes," Jareth answered.

"He was a virgin when we got together," Sarah explained. "I was not. It was always a sore point with him."

"What in all the bogs did you see in him?" Jareth shook his head.

"Hindsight is a beautiful thing." Sarah fiddled with the tip of Jareth's pendant. "We had a lot of shared interests, mutual friends, and Mark was entertaining and thoughtful, to begin with. I'd hate to say it, but he deceived me more than you did. You pretended to look like someone else; he really was someone else. I never saw the true Mark until it was too late."

Jareth didn't respond directly, continuing to touch and stroke her in placating movements.

"Fool me once..." Sarah muttered into Jareth's chest.

"I won't fool you twice, Sarah." He stopped his comforting motions and pulled her into a tight embrace. "I know nothing I can say will make you believe me, Sarah. Not after everything you have been through, but you are a Queen, and moreover, you are my Queen, and I will treat you as such."

Sarah pressed her face into his chest, inhaling his scent and seeking comfort from his warmth. They resumed their wordless embrace for a few moments longer.

"Sarah?" Sarah heard Toby and pulled herself away from Jareth to see her brother standing awkwardly at the doorway. "What's going on?"

"A parent wished away their baby," Jareth answered.

"Why is my sister crying?" Toby took one step forward. The lighting change threw his angular, gaunt body into greater definition.

"Because I am responsible for it." Sarah knew it was time to reveal her other well-kept secret. "I made a mistake many years ago that led me here."

"Sarah, that monster's choice and wish is not your responsibility," Jareth mumbled into her ear.

"Have you not wondered how I met Jareth?" Sarah asked, sidestepping Jareth's attempts at consolation.

"Well, I assumed it was when you wished me away." Toby shrugged.

Sarah watched Toby's face, and it appeared indifferent. No accusation, no malice to be found. Just matter-of-fact.

"Who told you?"

"No one." Toby shrugged again as teenagers often are wont to do. "You told me the story enough and then here we are. Not hard to put two and two together."

"Oh, Toby, I am so sorry!" Sarah felt fresh tears piling up.

"You refused your dreams to save me," Toby said, with yet another shrug. "And babies are annoying."

Jareth laughed. "You were a fine fellow though, Tobias, but you did have a set of lungs on you. You are thankfully too young to remember the indignity I suffered to placate you."

Sarah filed that tidbit away for later perusal. What had Jareth done to soothe the crying toddler?

"But don't you see from that one decision I made, how everyone's lives have been affected?" Sarah furiously wiped away her tears. She told Toby about the Pinsburrs and how they burnt down the family home, murdering Karen and Robert; which led to Toby's exile in his changeling-aunt's house. Sarah followed with a brief tirade on her abduction, which she pointed out, led to a forced marriage to Jareth. Last but not least, Sarah described her ex-husband Mark retrieving the red book and wishing his baby away.

"And all because I didn't want to babysit you once again." Sarah had untangled herself from Jareth's lap and was now pacing the throne room. "I have negatively affected everyone's lives."

"Sarah!" Jareth's tone was brisk and commanding. "You may have set off a chain of events, but you did not continue it."

"Shouldn't you be checking on Mark?" Sarah snapped.

"No," Jareth said, firmly. "The goblins are watching him. They will tell me if anything is amiss."

"I seem to remember you would pop up unwanted throughout my challenge," Sarah pointed out, crossing her arms.

"You intrigued me," Jareth said, as his lips twitched. "Mark has nothing I am interested in."

"You're not even going to steal his time?" Sarah uncrossed her arms and wildly gestured towards the clock.

"Do you want him to lose his baby?" Jareth rose off the floor where he was still sitting. "He isn't a threat like you were."

"So if he wins, will you marry him too?" Sarah placed her hands on her hips.

"Sarah," Toby interrupted. "While, it wasn't easy losing mom and dad, and while it was hell living with Aunt Joan, those things are not directly your fault. You can't be responsible for what other people do. I should be angry, but I have spent years being resentful about everything, and I am too tired to carry any more bitterness and anger."

"You were always wise beyond your years, young man," Sarah said, ruffling his hair like he was seven again. "I could learn a lot from you when it comes to not being resentful."

Jareth met Sarah's eyes, and he offered a smile as if he conjectured her meaning perfectly. Sarah was well aware of her own resentment against Jareth.

"Stop it!" Toby batted her hand away from ruffling his hair. He may be insightful, but he was still a teenager. Abby chose to start crying at this time, so Jareth went straight to her, taking her out of Cookie's arms and cradling the wee thing. Toby wrapped his arms around his sister's shoulders. "I love you, Sarah and I am grateful that you won me back, and that you came back for me. We can make a new life now, out of the shadow of the old life."

"Cripes, you are philosophical for a teenage boy." Sarah patted Toby on his shoulder as they pulled away from their hug.

"I spent most of my time in the library hiding from Aunt Joan," Toby said. "I read a lot."

"The Toby I knew loved his computer games..." Sarah glanced away from Toby to see Jareth cooing at the baby. Sarah had seen him in the walking-state, holding her as a baby, but watching him with a baby in the here-and-now, piqued her interest. He was gentle and soft and almost kindly-looking as he rocked and soothed the wailing infant. Sarah's heart fluttered at the sight of her husband, then sank as she remembered waking up to a sharp pain in her abdomen and her pyjama bottoms covered in blood.

Tears welled up as she watched him. She instinctively knew he would want a child, whether it would be to secure an heir or just to experience fatherhood and by marrying her, she had denied him the chance.

"Sarah?" Toby elbowed her gently in the arm. "Don't look at him all misty-eyed. Society may consider me an adult in a year, but it's still gross."

Jareth looked up at his words, so Sarah blinked away her tears and scowled at him. "I am going to go and check on Mark."

"How are you going to do that?" Jareth followed her with the baby in the crook of one arm, as he used his cane with the other.

"Sevlydi can show me how to scry," Sarah called over her shoulder. True to form, Sarah was running away from her feelings again. Jareth should at least have a better understanding now, as he has dealt with child loss all his career. While not a planned baby, it had been very much a wanted child. And Sarah knew she never dealt with the pain sufficiently.

She found Sevlydi sitting in Jareth's study. He had maps and scrolls all laid out on the long table, by the wall.

"What are you doing in here?" Sarah asked him.

"Someone has to plan for this war," he said accusingly.

"We have a wished away child," Sarah informed him, defensively.

"I guess you are here to write to the next parents, then." Sevlydi rolled up a scroll and placed a pin into the map nearest him.

Sarah paled. She hadn't even considered that. "No, actually. I came to ask you if you could help me scry for the runner."

"Can't Jareth help?"

"He is busy with the baby," Sarah reasoned. "He isn't interested in scrying for him."

"Then why, are you?"

"He is my husband," Sarah admitted. "My ex-husband. The mortal one."

"Ah." Sevlydi looked away from his table of war planning paraphernalia, to study her. "Just say his name into this crystal."

He tossed her a crystal that he produced from thin air.

"What?" Sarah raised her brows dramatically. "No scathing judgement from my dear brother-in-law today?"

"I would love to, but I simply do not have the time." Sevlydi returned to his maps.

Sarah slunk out of the study and took a perch in one of the windows down the corridor. She propped her feet up onto the sill and leant back against the frame.

"Mark Fenwick," Sarah said into the crystal. She instantly saw him tearing down the endless corridor right at the start of the Labyrinth. He was cursing and swearing while he ran and tripping over the branches scattered across his path. She watched for a while before she realised Jareth was standing right in front of her.

"We can't help him." Jareth sat on the windowsill by her feet.

"We have to write to the next parents on the list," Sarah said with disgust.

"We do," Jareth bowed his head.

"Please tell me it is not the Pinnsburrs."

"I do not know." Jareth rubbed his forehead. "They wanted to be at the top of the list after being denied, but I said no. However, Omre and Nudalun like to interfere, so anything is possible."

"I am going to find Meffod and Yarbro and kill them with my bare hands," Sarah threatened, as Jareth sat down on the sill next to her. "Then for good measure, I am going to kill Omre and Nudalun."

"Maybe you will have the chance when the war starts," Jareth placed his hand on her booted foot. They sat like that for a few minutes. Sarah was the first to break the silence.

"Jareth?"

"Yes, Precious?"

"Do you want to be a father?"

Jareth turned his mismatched gaze to her. "Why do you ask, Sarah?"

"I feel that you may not have married me if you knew where I stood on this issue," Sarah answered honestly. She decided to be upfront about it.

"And where do you stand?"

"Losing my baby was the most unbearable pain." Sarah ran her hand over her flat stomach. "I can still feel its kicks and hear its tiny heartbeat on the doppler. I don't think I can risk this happening again."

Jareth didn't say anything, his face remained inscrutable, but his hand remained on her foot. Eventually, he nodded.

"I want to be a father, Sarah," he said, closing his eyes. "I could lie and say what you wanted me to hear, but I would rather be truthful with you. So I will tell you the blunt truth. I want a child of my own. However, I would rather have you, and no child, than a child, without you in my life. You are not getting out of our marriage that easily."

The only sound was that of birds twittering outside the window. And perhaps Sarah's heart as it twisted in her chest at his words. She gazed out the window across the Labyrinth, her gloved fingers tracing the pattern of the maze into the pane.

"That's a mighty big sacrifice," Sarah finally spoke up.

"Is it?" Jareth asked indifferently.

"Well, it depends on how much you want a child, I suppose." Sarah resumed tracing the Labyrinth with her finger. "But generally, forgoing the desire to bear children for the sake of someone who married you for political reasons, would be seen as a big sacrifice."

"But I did not marry you for political reasons, Sarah." His hand gripped her ankle. "If I was inclined to marry for civic purposes, any old-Forsythia substitute could suffice."

"No, but I married you for political reasons." Sarah placed her head back against the bricks of the window frame, to study him better.

"And I married you for love," Jareth said quietly. "So I respect your decision not to have children."

"That easily?"

"No," Jareth confessed. "It is a bitter disappointment, but I love you."

This time it was only Sarah's heart that penetrated the silence; the birds having flown off. Despite her feelings, or lack thereof, Sarah's whole being thrilled at each utterance of love. And she suddenly realised that though her feelings remained bound and gagged, she wanted him to love her. And it hurt to disappoint him in such a manner. But seeing her dead baby after they had pulled it out of her body, was a strong deterrent.

"I imagine that the pain you carry is more powerful than my disappointment." Jareth shifted on the sill, his grip loosening on her ankle.

Sarah sniffed. "Well, we will just have to find a willing person to be your surrogate, then. I am sure that won't be tricky."

"Sarah"— there was a warning in his voice—"stop trying to ship me off to other women. I am yours. And I do not appreciate you making light of your loss."

"It is my loss to make light of, Jareth." Sarah swung her legs off the sill and back onto solid ground. "I have a lot of things to grieve and mourn. Let me do it in the way I feel comfortable to do so."

"You are right, as always, Precious." He bowed his head. As Sarah walked past, he grabbed her around the waist and pulled her to him; his knees were firm against her stomach. He stroked her hair, whispering, "Forgive me."

"So the next ball we have, start pointing out the women you would like to make babies with." Sarah placed her hand without the crystal on his chest, stroking his amulet with her index finger. "I have to approve them first. As Queen."

Jareth leant down and kissed her on the forehead. "I am sure you would approve of my pick. She is strong, determined, a fighter and very, very unbelievably sexy. If I can't have her, then there is no one else I would want to mother my children."

Sarah frowned. "She would have to be a good mother and pass on admirable qualities to the child. I am not sure 'sexy' alone fits the bill."

"She traversed to the ends of the earth for her brother, so she'd make an exceptional mother," Jareth murmured, his lips warm against her brow. Sarah flinched when she realised he was talking about her. "And I mentioned: strong, determined and a fighter, not just sexy. But you chose to ignore that in favour of singling out sexy, you vain little minx."

"That's all very flattering, Jareth, but I won't be changing my mind." Sarah pressed her hand harder against his chest. She hated denying him a child because of their all-but-arranged marriage. While only joking about him finding a surrogate, there was an element of truth to her words.

"I am not trying to change your mind, my love." She felt his lips moving against her skin again. "Only to convince you that I love you more than the idea of being a father. If I don't have a child with you, then I will forgo being a parent."

"We should probably go and write a letter to the next parents." Sarah ran her hand up Jareth's chest to his shoulder, lightly tracing the sinews in his neck with her fingers.

"We should," he murmured. "Or not. Actually, let's save it until we have a definite winner. Last time, I got complacent and informed the Pinnsburrs before you had won. I won't make that mistake again."

"Mark hasn't left the endless corridor." Sarah shrugged. "He's a dick, but I don't know that he deserves to lose his baby."

"Sarah, shall we break the rules?" Jareth still had his hands on her waist, and he opened his legs to pull her even closer to him.

"How so?"

"Shall we find a human family to adopt Abby?" He brushed her hair behind her ears and tilted her face up. "It was always our plan, so why not action it ourselves. We have a war on the horizon; what is one more thing for them to attack us for?"

"But what if the next family in line isn't a Navas family?" Sarah queried. "Then their kingdom may become an alliance of Navas."

"The Pinnsburrs are from Trew, not Navas," Jareth pointed out. "And as far as I know, Trew is staying neutral. But we can go look in the book and find out."

Jareth let go of Sarah with an air of reluctance. They made their way to the office where maps and parchments still surrounded Sevlydi. Jareth ignored his brother and marched with his cane over to his desk. He grabbed the hefty tome and passed it to Sarah.

"I will let you do the honours," he said as she grasped it. Sarah opened the book to the page marked by the ribbon. Columns divided the page. The chart listed the names of the parents, their kingdom of residence, and the child they had adopted. Next to the 'Pinnsburrs,' it said _:_

' _Child~ Toby Williams of Above, Youngest Child of Robert Williams, and only child of Karen Williams, née Stanton. Runner~ Queen Sarah Hi'Live_ _De Škriatok, n_ _ée Williams,_ _ **Champion**_ _. The child returned to Above.'_

"I never agreed to take your last name," Sarah growled.

"I took yours," Jareth shrugged. "It's only fair."

"You took Williams?"

"No!" Jareth shook his head. "I am King Jareth Hi'Live De Škriatok, so I took your honorific last name."

"What a mouthful." Sarah shook her head. Sarah knew her title was Hi'Live but wasn't aware that it doubled as her last name.

"I am more than a mouthful, as you well know." Jareth beamed. Sarah had forgotten Sevlydi was present until he cleared his throat. Jareth grinned wider as Sarah scowled at him.

"Grow up," she ordered, good-naturedly.

"So who is next on the list?" Jareth asked. "Focus on the task at hand, and not what can or can't fit in your mouth."

Sarah glared at Jareth before she returned to the book.

"Though, I have yet to discover the delights of your mouth on that part of my body," Jareth continued wistfully, in a lowered voice.

"I can still hear you," Sevlydi called.

"And you are unlikely to," Sarah said with a smile, not looking up. "We keep getting interrupted."

"Yes, remind me to bog your husband." Jareth stepped closer, bringing his hands to her hips as she read. "Your ex-husband."

"Some family called the Grovesins," Sarah read. "Kuyt and Fiv Grovesins of Navas."

"Ah, Fiv," Jareth took his hands off Sarah and rubbed his chin. "I had forgotten she finally got married."

"You know them?" Sarah asked. "What are they like?"

"I know Fiv," Jareth corrected. "I am unfamiliar with Kuyt."

'Well, what is Fiv like?"

"Sarah, all I know about her was— " Jareth paused. "How to put this delicately?"

"All you know about her was that you fucked her?" Sarah asked, raising a brow.

"That's it!" He grinned. "We didn't really talk."

"I got that." Sarah closed the book with a thud. "So we don't know if they are decent people based on your prior knowledge of them."

"Not really, no." Jareth looked thoughtful. "She had a remarkable—"

"So we head to Ghent and find a family." Sarah crossed her arms. "I know many lovely families there, but won't it put them in danger?"

"I will increase the security of the family we choose," Jareth said. "Once the war comes, they will all have forgotten about the baby."

"Sire," came a harried voice from the door. A goblin rushed in nearly bowling into Jareth's legs.

"There are lots of somebodies to see you at the gates," the goblin huffed. "Very angry somebodies."

Jareth shot an alarmed look at Sarah and then nodded at the goblin. "I will be right there."

The goblin skidded off, and Jareth grabbed her arm. "It is to do with the baby. The Labyrinth is telling me. She wants you to come with me."

"You think it is the Grovesins?"

"Perhaps, but there are four of them." Jareth drew his brows into a puzzled frown. "Sarah, listen to me. Stay close to me and do not let go of my arm for any reason whatsoever. They aren't currently posing a threat, but I will not have you harmed."

Jareth ordered Sevlydi to check on the baby. Sarah linked her arm with his, and they disappeared from the spot. They reappeared outside the gate to the Labyrinth, where she had entered all those weeks ago to visit Terry. The booth was occupied with a goblin, swinging his legs and chewing on a leather belt. Rows and rows of lavender, that she was sure weren't there before, lined the road and the outer wall, perhaps in an attempt to keep the sandy desert at bay. A lone black and gold flag waved feebly in the dying breeze atop the gate.

A group of four fae stood bickering in front of the horses and carts in which they must have travelled. They wore cloaks so Sarah couldn't see any distinguishing features about them. A few goblin guards stood pointing their spears at the party.

"What have we here?" Jareth asked loudly, stunning the foursome into silence.

"Jareth," came a melodic voice from the crimson cloak. The owner of the voice pushed down her hood and strode towards the two monarchs. "I never thought I would see you again."

She kissed Jareth twice on each cheek. Sarah gripped Jareth's arm so tight her nails almost dug in.

"Ah, Fiv Grovesin!" Jareth guided the fae a few steps away from him. "Have you forgotten your station? Because I dread to think you have forgotten mine."

"Your Majesty." Fiv swept into an elegant curtsey.

"And this is my wife, Queen Sarah Hi'Live De Škriatok." Jareth patted Sarah on the arm. Fiv was an elegant creature with a slightly upturned nose and blonde ringlets down to her waist. She had a blue-eyed stare that belied innocence and purity. Her gaze descended upon Sarah without hesitation. Fiv gave a smaller, but still quite an ostentatious curtsey.

"Pleasure." Fiv smiled, then indicated behind her. "This is my husband, Kuyt."

"And to what do we owe your arrival in our Kingdom?" Sarah asked in a clear voice, casting her eyes over the other two strangers. They remained isolated and standoffish.

"We have come about the baby," Kuyt spoke up. He was also blonde, with a blonde beard, trimmed short, over his very square jawline. Was everyone blonde in this infernal dimension?

"What baby are you referring to?" Jareth asked ponderously.

"The one that has been wished-away," Fiv spoke up. "We are next in line."

"No, we are," came a familiar voice. Meffod Pinnsburr came marching forward, throwing off her hood. "This baby is ours."

Sarah was horrified that they were here, but more so by their burnt and scarred faces. Jareth stepped forward, half blocking Sarah, radiating anger. Yarbro kept his distance, shifting from foot to foot. 'Wise', Sarah thought.

"I suggest you leave our Kingdom," Jareth warned. "There won't be a second chance."

Meffod laughed. "I see you still bear the scars of the last time you tried to defy your family."

"As do you!" Jareth smiled. Sarah would not want to be on the receiving end of that smile. "Though I am disappointed to see you remain alive."

"Yes, I suppose you are..." Meffod ran her tongue across the tips of her teeth. "To have nearly been defeated by us must hurt you."

"Meffod Pinnsburr," Sarah interrupted. "Tell me why a kidnapper, a torturer, a murderer, and a manipulative fae such as yourself should deserve to have a baby?"

Meffod turned her scornful gaze onto Sarah. "I do not have to answer to a mere mortal."

"No, I don't suppose you think so." Sarah shrugged. "Because of your actions the goblin you recruited as a spy, lies in a cell awaiting his death. Does that not affect you at all?"

"Why should it affect me?"

"I have read a lot of fairy tales, Madam Pinnsburr." Sarah stepped around Jareth. "Each villain has some redeeming feature: a backstory that makes their motivation somewhat understandable, if not acceptable. I wonder what yours could possibly be?"

"This is not a fairy tale," Meffod scoffed.

"No, but I would like to think there is some redeeming feature about yourself," Sarah persisted. "I would hate for your life to be forfeit without so much as one positive aspect shining through."

"My life to be forfeit?" Meffod shook her head.

"Indeed!" Sarah inspected her gloves. "You threatened my husband's life. Do you think you could do so while keeping yours?"

Meffod tossed her head back and howled with laughter. "You think you can threaten me, little girl?"

Jareth cleared his throat. "You are standing in her kingdom, so she is entitled to threaten you."

"This is not her Kingdom," Meffod barked. "This Kingdom is under Navas rule, and she is not the sanctioned Queen."

"While arguing semantics may buy you some time," Sarah interjected. "It won't save your life."

"You couldn't even give me a papercut, let alone end my life," Meffod snarled.

"Please tell me one redeeming feature, before you draw your last breath," Sarah asked again, closing her eyes with impatience. "And I thought you were the more intelligent one between you and your husband."

"I shall do no such thing," Meffod snapped.

Sarah just smiled and stepped back. "As you wish."

"War is coming," Meffod growled at them.

"It is," Jareth bared his pointy canines. "It is a shame that you won't live to see it."

"Just give me my child," Meffod said, restlessly. The Grovesins uttered their own declarations about the ownership of the baby, largely ignored by everyone. Meffod spoke over the top of them. "The baby doesn't need to be caught up in the middle of a war."

"Say your goodbyes to your husband," Sarah instructed. Meffod laughed but did not turn to face Yarbro. Instead, she raised her hand and moved to step forward. In an instant, Sarah clicked her fingers, and Meffod disappeared as if a hole had opened up right below her. Yarbro started, and Fiv gasped. Kuyt and Jareth both remained placid in their demeanour.

"Meffy?" Yarbro rushed forwards. "What have you done with my wife?"

"Take one more step, and you will end up in exactly the same predicament," Sarah warned.

"Control your wife," Yarbro yelled at Jareth, before reconsidering. He clarified by saying, "your fake wife"

"She is the Queen!" Jareth's lips curled. "She has equal power here."

"What right do you think you have to hurt my wife?"

"The same right you think you had to hurt my husband." Sarah shrugged. "I grow tired of your whining. You seem to be in a hurry to join her."

"You can not kill us," Yarbro blustered. "Navas will not allow it, the High Court —"

Sarah clicked her fingers, and he too disappeared. The silence yawned on for what seemed like an eternity with the four remaining souls in a strained impasse.

"Your Majesty," Fiv addressed Jareth, eventually, in barely a whimper. "You were never so cruel before."

"What do you know of my cruelty?" Jareth raised a brow.

"We were intimate once," Fiv reasoned. "You certainly were not a selfish lover."

Kuyt cleared his throat while Sarah snorted. Jareth gave Sarah a look from the side of his eye, before flicking his eyes back to Fiv.

"Madam, do not mistake my prowess in bed, for lack of cruelty," Jareth said with a callous smirk. "However, the Pinnsburrs have committed crimes against both myself and my wife. We are not dolling out cruelty, but justice. They killed my Queen's parents."

"And she just killed two Trew fae," Fiv accused, pointing a shaking finger at Sarah.

"Did she?" Jareth asked, nonchalantly. "I didn't notice."

"Jar—I mean Your Majesty," Fiv pleaded, "give us the baby. For old time's sake if nothing else."

"The runner hasn't used up his allotted time," Jareth reminded her. "Come back in ten hours."

"But—"

"And as for old time's sake," Jareth said with derision, "a quick fuck behind the curtains at the Pantherie Ball, doesn't endear me to give you a child, Fiv."

Sarah studied Fiv's meticulous form as she processed Jareth's words. She seemed to deflate. Even her curls seemed to slacken. Unbidden, images of Jareth entwined with Fiv, fully dressed but still going at it like rabbits, flashed through her mind. Sarah shook her head to clear the images away.

"We have tried for so long to have children," Fiv reasoned. "And we are next on the list."

"Did you visit the pearl caves?" Jareth dragged his cane through the sandy ground at his feet as he spoke. Sarah wondered why he had abruptly changed the subject. "Before you married?"

"Yes," Fiv answered rapidly. "Of course we did. Kuyt chose a silvery green pearl for me. It is gorgeous."

"What animal did you receive your pearl from?"

"I believe it was a kelpie," Fiv answered, her brow furrowing.

"And if you saw that kelpie right now, would you return your pearl?"

"It is my pearl," Fiv retorted, stepping back from the Goblin King. "And kelpies do not exist anymore."

"Fae stole those pearls," Jareth recalled. "Stole them in such numbers, that many of the Greater mythical creatures ceased to exist. We still have imps and goblins and other lower beasts, but the Greater Mythical Creatures and their Council have all been hunted to extinction. For mere pearls that either dictate who you will marry or simply just as a gift. I assume your pearl was just a gift? And not a bridal-pearl?"

"Who wants to be told who they should marry by a lump of stone?" Fiv scoffed. Sarah inclined her head at the female. She happened to agree with that assessment of the situation.

" _Lump_ of magical residue," Jareth corrected.

"Kuyt selected the pearl, it wasn't selected for him," Fiv clarified.

"You celebrate your stolen pearl like you would celebrate your stolen child," Jareth said in disgust. "Then both will be neglected and abused by you. All for what?"

"Yes, all for what?" Sarah shook her head in disbelief. "If bridal-pearls are so frowned upon, why do you covet such _lumps_ of magical residue in any case?"

Fiv glanced at her and sneered. "You don't know?"

Sarah shrugged. "I guess I do not know why animals had to be hunted to extinction for a mere wedding gift."

"It is about status and power," Kuyt spoke up for only the second time. "The more you have the better the pearl you can select. The more likely your prospective wife will agree to marry you."

"That's it?" Sarah jeered. "That's just a game. It's just a game to you?"

"When they don't marry for love, they have to make it interesting," Jareth rested his hand on her shoulder.

"They lost the ability to have children of their own, for a game?" Sarah hissed at her husband. "It doesn't make sense."

"And which of their rules has ever made sense, hmm?" Jareth said to her. "You saw how I ended up here in this Kingdom. You know how relationships are punished. It makes no sense at all, yet it is very real."

"You lost the unicorns and the phoenixes and the griffons for a game," Sarah cried out, incredulously. "You do not deserve the honour of being a parent if you can sacrifice your ability to have children and wipe out entire species, for a _game_."

Fiv and Kuyt just stared at the two monarchs with looks of disbelief and impatience while they spoke.

"The pearls have innate magic that brings a little more power to a married couple," Fiv said. "They are coveted for their beauty, their rarity but also as a channel or a focus for magic."

Fiv held up her hand, showing off a ring with a pearl dead centre. Sarah could feel her magic reacting negatively to the fae couple showing off their stolen wares. Spirals of dust started forming all around them, hitting the lavender bushes with such force they trembled and dropped their purple heads to the ground.

Jareth must have sensed her magical agitation because he ran his gloved hand down her arm and grasped her hand in his. Offering a slight squeeze, Jareth's succour managed to calm down her anger and the dust whirlwinds spluttered to nothing.

"Come back in ten hours," was Jareth's only response. He wrapped his arms around Sarah and they vanished back to the castle.

* * *

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: It has been a heck of a week. I didn't think I would get this out until Tuesday but I did it!!! Thank you, everyone, for your support. Everyone gives their readers cookies. I am offering feta cheese, olives, hummus and crackers. 


	25. Chapter 24

CHAPTER 24

"Five hours remain," Jareth informed Sarah as they gazed across the Labyrinth from the battlements where they stood shoulder to shoulder. "Shall we go and visit him?"

Sarah sighed deeply. "I guess it is only polite."

"Polite?" Jareth tsked, his hand moving to the small of her back.

Sarah hesitated. "He is a visitor here."

"He is also someone who wished away their child to try and wrangle more sex," Jareth said with distaste. "That poor woman has just given birth."

"Jo," Sarah prompted with a frown. "She always had a taste for the wrong men."

"Like you?"

"But she knew what he was!" Sarah jabbed her finger into the bricks of the battlement wall. "I didn't know what he was like when we first started going out. She had the opportunity to learn from my experience. I bitched about Mark enough times to Jo..."

They both watched as a crow circled closer to their observation spot. Its 'caw' carried on the breeze, disturbing the peace. Sarah wondered if it was the same crow that had stirred them both from a nap they had taken when they returned from the Labyrinth's gates. After no sleep last night in addition to all the discharged emotions from telling Jareth about her miscarriage, she had curled up and drifted off under Jareth's owl-feather blanket. Jareth joined her after he had checked on Sevlydi, Toby and the baby.

"Why do you think he keeps having affairs with my friends?" Sarah asked, breaking the silence. "Not all my friends—Hilary would never have touched him with a 50-foot barge pole— and not all his affairs were with my friends. The one he left me for, Melinda, was definitely not my friend."

"Your ex-husband was one card short of a full deck," Jareth responded, bluntly. "Cheating on you in the first place was his first mistake, so bog knows why he picked your friends. Perhaps, he was trying to strike a chord with you."

Jareth could be right that Mark was probably crudely trying to make Sarah jealous, but how would that work when she was missing, presumed dead? "Truly a cruel beast," Sarah said, shaking her head. "Well, it would work wonders if I had enough capacity to care."

"You do care," Jareth murmured, "about the right things."

Sarah straightened her corset. "And his penis is not one of them."

Jareth threw his head back, emitting a deep laugh. "I imagine you would sooner chop it off, than care about it."

"The Fire Gang would appreciate a new toy."

Jareth kissed Sarah on her temple. "You are despicable, precious."

"What's truly despicable is that you still haven't stolen time from him," Sarah recalled. "Especially as he had the audacity to interrupt us."

"We have a growing list of criminals, Sarah," Jareth drawled her name out. "Glib the goblin, the two Pinnsburrs— my oubliettes are filling up."

"Surely, interrupting us during a pivotal moment is a greater crime than all of their crimes put together," Sarah teased.

"You would think so," Jareth agreed, hooking his fingers into the bottom of her corset and drawing her closer. "But I am sure you will make it up to me once your ex-husband has returned Aboveground."

"Is that what you think?"

Jareth's smile answered Sarah's question. But if it didn't, his kiss certainly did.

Jareth's hands pressed the small of Sarah's back, and the nape of her neck, enclosing her in the circle of his arms. His fingers— burrowing deep in her loose hair— caressed the base of the scalp with tantalising strokes. His lips grazed hers, sending delicate waves of pleasure through the nervous system, before being replaced by gentle nips of his teeth. Her bottom lip was between both sets of teeth as he ran his tongue along its length. Sarah lifted her floundering arms and drew them up his thighs to place them on his hips.

At this encouragement, Jareth released her lip from his teeth and ventured his tongue between both lips. Sarah nipped gently on the tip of his tongue and then pulled away. Jareth's eyes darted open and narrowed at her cheeky smile.

Jareth growled. "Don't toy with me, Sarah."

Sarah leaned back in and placed her lips against his in a feather-soft kiss. Both mouths opened, both sets of eyes closed again as they dipped tongues in to taste each other. Jareth tasted like warm blueberry pie. It was slow, gentle, and curious, but not intrusive. Sarah felt a rising giddiness as Jareth deepened the kiss. It was less carnal, less hungry and more comforting and consoling. It was a kiss that said, ' _I will be there for you as the world falls down.'_

When Jareth released her, Sarah felt like her whole mind was open to him. His eyes bore into hers, reading what she was failing to hide. That was no lust-fueled kiss, though it seemed to have been prompted by more base desires. Initiated by lust or not, it definitely did not conclude in the same vein. Sarah was hyper-aware of both their rapid breathing as they held each other's gaze.

"Shall we go and see your Bog-worthy mortal husband?" Jareth ran trembling fingers through her hair and along her jawline.

"If we must," Sarah replied, in a shaky voice. A kiss had never moved Sarah in her entire life. She doubted whether Jareth had ever been so affected by a kiss before, either. Cutting it short to carry out their duty seemed an injustice on an indomitable scale. Sarah felt her heart clench and then beat in double time. She lurched forward and pulled Jareth into a hug. He hesitated briefly, before enveloping her in a nearly bone-crushing hug.

Sarah imagined what the crow must see from its height: two monarchs wrapped in each other with their long hair intertwining and their cloaks whipping each other in the wind. What the crow couldn't see was eyes glistening with unshed tears as they sought comfort from each other; a potential end to their respective loneliness. It couldn't see the two rulers inhale each other deeply, trying to imprint the scent of the other deep into their memory banks. It couldn't see the King rub his thumb lightly across the shoulder blades of the Queen. It couldn't see the Queen press her lips against the juncture of the King's neck in an approximation of a kiss.

* * *

Jareth and Sarah arrived in the stone maze, which after all this time was as far as Mark had travelled. They stood waiting around the corner from where he was currently running; goblin armour gleaming and menacing. Jareth took Sarah's hand in his.

"A united front," he reasoned to her when she glanced from their joined hands to his face. She offered a squeeze with her hand and a smile. Jareth's heart squeezed in time with her hand, especially at seeing her smile. He had seen a lot of anger, a lot of sadness from his wife since he first met her, and every smile was worth its weight in gold; even small ones that she offered voluntarily.

Her smile slid off as she heard her husband—her ex-husband—stumble around the corner. Mark was unkempt, to say the least, with sweat streaking down his grubby, vermillion face, his clothes torn, and his hands covered in blood. He stood puffing, with his hands on his knees as he took in the sight of his tormentors standing hand in hand in his path. He pushed his scraggly blonde fringe out of his face to glare at them both.

"Is it over?" Mark puffed. "Can I have my child back?"

Jareth's brows shot up. "Do you believe you have beaten my Labyrinth?"

"Your maze is pitiful," Mark said with an audible wheeze.

"And yet you haven't even reached the hedge maze," Jareth said, tapping his cane impatiently on the ground. Mark turned his look to Sarah instead.

"Sar," he began, breathlessly, "I know I treated you awfully, but Abby doesn't deserve to be a goblin. She is a sweetheart, Sarah. Please do not turn her into an abomination."

Jareth felt his skin prickle in contempt as he referred to the goblins as abominations. He wondered if Sarah also remembered the real fear that she had when trying to get Toby back. He had seen it in her eyes every time they had met during her run. Jareth turned to his wife and could see in her face the pity that she felt for Mark.

"It is really arduous to lose a child," Sarah condoled with him "The difference, between us, is that I never wished my child away just so I could get laid."

" _Our_ child," Mark corrected, glancing at Jareth. "You told him?"

"Told him about my baby?" Sarah clarified. At Mark's nod, Sarah continued, "yes, he is my husband, Mark. We keep no secrets from each other."

"You didn't want anyone to know," Mark accused. "Even when you were getting fatter, you still wanted to keep it to ourselves."

Jareth heard his resentment in his tone. Was he more resentful that Sarah wanted to keep it a secret or that he was embarrassed by Sarah's burgeoning waistline? He suspected the latter. He watched as Sarah straightened her stance and glowered at the mortal.

"Yet, Jo seemed to know," she said, in a tone devoid of the petulance the statement had the potential to carry.

"No different to you as she is practically my wife." Mark took an intentional step forward. "I would ask Jo to marry me if I was free to do so. But someone had to go and disappear before granting me a divorce."

"Two fae-folk kidnapped me," Sarah reminded him. "I didn't choose to come here."

"But you did marry this thing," Mark said, pointing a bloody finger at Jareth's chest. "You are just so selfish, Sarah."

"Selfish?" Sarah barked humourless laughter. "You don't even know the reasons why I married him. I have to wonder at your basis for comparison."

"They were far from selfish reasons, precious," Jareth spoke up. He didn't particularly relish Sarah revealing to Mark that they were married for convenience. "In the meantime, you are wasting your time. You have less than five hours remaining for you." He cast a look at the shambles that was her ex-husband and held his hand out to his wife. "Shall we go, my _love_?"

"Love?" Mark looked at them both with incredulity. "If you believe that she has any love in her, then you are a fool, bigger than even your feathery hair."

Jareth levelled a cold glare at his predecessor. He would let the insult to his hair go, with reluctance, but not the slight against his wife. He took one step forward, bringing his face closer to the grubby man. "Your decision to waste the love she gave you on meaningless shags, is no longer your problem or concern. Sarah is her own person, and though she is my wife, she can make her own choices when it comes to love. You have no idea what she is capable of doing for those she truly loves. I have seen it first hand."

Jareth hesitated, knowing Sarah probably didn't want to divulge the secret of her brother's time in the Labyrinth to his odious man. He inhaled sharply, leaning in closer. "Perhaps we both know two very different Sarah's, but this one sacrificed her entire life to be a Queen of a Kingdom that has, directly and indirectly, provided her traumatic events enough to last two or three lifetimes. She isn't the selfish one, nor the one lacking love. I am also not the one who is a fool, for loving my wife has been one of the greatest pleasures I have ever known."

He watched Mark's already pallid features pale in increments as he delivered his monologue. Jareth stepped away from the man; the acrid smell from him was overwhelming as if he had already taken a dip in the bog.

Jareth turned to Sarah to see something ineffable flit across her face. His heart twisted excitedly at the thought that she had looked at him with respect and adoration. But it had been so fleeting and quickly replaced with her Goblin Queen mask.

"I suggest you keep going to the centre, Mark," Sarah said, spinning on her heel and walking away from her husband. Jareth ran a judging eye over him. Mark was a very typically handsome man, and he could see what drew Sarah in, but his blue eyes, while the same shade as his own, remained cold and steely. He saw in his eyes, a reflection of the man he could have the potential to be, if not tempered by his love for Sarah. Jareth imagined Mark would relate well to his father, Effistod.

"Losing your child is a cruel punishment, but you are getting off easy for all the hurt you've caused my wife," Jareth whispered into his forerunner's ear. "I hope for your sake, that you never treat another woman the way you have treated Sarah. If you ever decide to cheat or disrespect another woman, you may wake up minus your favourite body part."

Mark baulked, his hand hovering over his groin. "You do not have the power."

Jareth grinned despite how close Mark had come to saying those dratted words Sarah had defeated him with. "I have citizens that enjoy removing limbs. It would be no problem for them. Some goblins remove their own penises; it won't be a stretch for them to remove yours either."

"You and Sarah deserve each other," Mark yelled, as Jareth strolled away from him.

Jareth turned slowly to face Mark. "Yes, we do. She deserves to have someone love her and treat her like the Queen she is. Next time you see her, I suggest you bow to her, or you may regret your loose tongue."

"She doesn't love you," Mark rejoined in one last attempt to belittle him. "You are a fool if you think she does."

Jareth smiled, as he flicked his wrist towards Mark. To the human, it would have just looked like a dismissive gesture, but in reality, he had placed a truth spell on the man. "Tell me what reason would Sarah ever have to love you?"

Mark looked like he was going to argue and then, his shoulders slumped. "Because I used to be good to her."

"How were you good to her?"

"I was kind," he replied, "I made her feel important. She had a string of inadequate boyfriends before me, and I was different. I charmed her and bent over backwards to be what she needed. It was mostly a facade of goodness, with no real substance. I was very good at lying to her. I wanted her to think I was a good person. At first."

Jareth quirked his brow. "And why did you stop?"

Mark looked confused as if he couldn't understand why he was answering these questions. He ran his torn-up hands through his scruffy blonde hair. "She was too good for me. She was always out of my league, man. I got on the defensive, I guess. I couldn't compete with her. She brought out my insecurities. I saw her more as a trophy rather than a person. I mean, you've seen her. She was—is— hot. She did not worship me like I felt I deserved. Until then, we had fun, but she was only using me to fill a hole she had in her heart; one I could never fill—a hole shaped like someone else."

Jareth waved his hand again, and Mark instantly stiffened.

"What did you do to me?" he asked, rubbing his eyes.

"I sought the truth," Jareth replied, turning away from him. "I had to know what could have possibly possessed Sarah to marry you."

"Why?" Mark asked with a sneer. "You feel threatened by me?"

"Not remotely." Jareth spun on his heel and followed his wife's path through the Labyrinth until he caught up with her.

* * *

"You took your time," Sarah accused, lightly.

"I had words with your ex-husband," Jareth replied, honestly.

"Oh?"

"I still can't get my head around how a magnificent creature like you married such a bog-turnip like him?"

Sarah sighed. "You must think so lowly of my judgement."

Jareth stopped mid-stride. "No, Sarah."

"It's quite alright, Jareth," Sarah reassured. "I think quite lowly of my questionable judgement too. I was too easily charmed. And I knew better."

"You can't know what someone is truly like when they intentionally set out to deceive you," Jareth pointed out.

Sarah burst out laughing. "The irony of your statement, Jareth…"

"It was not my intention to deceive you with Terry." Jareth took Sarah into his arms. "I intended to show you my true inner self, and it backfired dramatically."

"I know, I know," Sarah placated. "But still, you have to laugh at the irony."

"You are an intelligent woman," Jareth continued. "I have to wonder, did you take the lesson of 'not everything is as it seems,' too literally?"

Sarah shook her head. "I mean, out of all the boyfriends I have had, he was the worst, and I married him. It blows my mind too. Everyone else I ever dated was decent, but we just didn't work out."

"Is there a long list?" Jareth asked, his expression darkening.

"A long list of what?"

"Boyfriends," Jareth answered, his voice clipped.

Sarah sucked air through her teeth. "Shorter than yours."

"I have been alive for probably seventeen times longer than you," Jareth pointed out.

"Does it bother you if it was a long list?"

"I would have had your lovers treat you better," Jareth answered.

"Mark was the only one who treated me this poorly," Sarah replied. It was true. Something about Mark had compelled her to want him. Abusive people usually found hiding their darkness easier than anyone else. "Monsters don't expose themselves eagerly in our world. They look and act like everyone else. I made a horrendous mistake when I married him, but he is guilty of what he did, not I."

"I will refrain from asking you why you married him," Jareth acquiesced. "You are right. He is the one who is culpable of mistreatment, not you."

Sarah thanked him. People questioning her judgement never helped her self-blame for Mark's treatment of her. Jareth's concession meant a lot to her because he was starting to see her perspective. People make mistakes with their relationships all the time. But it was not the victim's fault they got sucked in.

"If it wasn't for your husband's deceit, would you have been so angry with me about Terry?" Jareth asked, after a lull.

"Hard to say," Sarah replied. "I do not work in hypotheticals."

* * *

Jareth's heart was racing. It always filled him with nervous excitement to talk to Sarah about her feelings, and he was on a knife-edge with bringing up Terry again. He released Sarah from his arms, and they continued their stroll through the maze.

"I only knew Terry a few months," Sarah recalled. "I felt something for him, something that I knew I didn't even feel for my husband. In some ways, it hurt more because I felt more and had opened myself up to trust again after so many years. In other ways, it wasn't as painful because there was no commitment, not even a kiss."

"Terry felt a lot for you too, Sarah," Jareth said, smiling warmly. " But I feel more for you than a figment of my imagination could ever feel. I wish— and I don't often wish—that I had not scuppered your trust on a poxy replica of myself."

"You ended it at least," Sarah pointed out. "Mark ended his deceit too, I guess. Except he made me hate him more while you made me…"

Jareth watched as Sarah blanched, then slammed her mouth shut. His heart soared at her almost confession, but he wasn't going to pressure her. Instead, he rubbed his chin and looked thoughtfully off to the side. "While you seem to attract the villains into your life, you at least have attracted good people, too. Your friend Hilary, Tobias, the Spriggets of Cloverfield—and I am sure there are many others that I do not know of."

"Hoggle, Ludo and Sir. Didymus," Sarah added.

Jareth laughed. "Honestly, I wouldn't call that cowardly dwarf 'good people' at all."

"He is a better person than you," Sarah said, elbowing him lightly.

"Of all the ways that you could insult me, why do you insist on comparing me to that scabby cretin?"

"Why did you send him to the bog when I gave him a mere kiss on the head?" Sarah shot back.

Jareth focused on smoothing his features, lest any sheepish looks drew Sarah's notice. "How do you know I wasn't, in fact, just punishing _you_ for kissing my employee?"

"Hoggle recently confessed to me that you had threatened to turn him into the Prince of the Land of Stench if I kissed him," Sarah said, a nonchalant shrug.

"Ah." The temptation to re-bog that interfering dwarf for good measure overwhelmed Jareth.

"Yes, so why did you do it?"

"It wasn't until later that I discovered your destiny to be my wife," Jareth explained. "However, before then, you still intrigued me. Ruling this Kingdom is as tedious as it is lonely. You intrigued me with your ability to conquer my Labyrinth, and to befriend those meant to hinder you."

Sarah widened her eyes at him. "You _**were**_ jealous!"

"I was," Jareth confessed. "Your imagination drew me in. I could imagine talking to you innocently for hours on end about all the whimsical imaginings you had."

"Well, we can still do that now," Sarah suggested. "Though, I imagine that my whimsical imaginings, as you put it, are more adult in nature now."

"Even better," Jareth said with a pointy-toothed grin. "I look forward to you elaborating more on that subject. But right now we have to wait until this run is complete."

* * *

Sarah spent the rest of Mark's run with Toby, showing him around and hearing the stories of what he had endured living with the changelings. Sarah briefly described her adventures up until this point. She didn't want to go into too much detail with him.

They had completed a circuit and ended up back at the throne room where Jareth sat cradling the baby in his arms. He glanced up as he entered. Sarah felt a pang in her heart at the longing Sarah saw in his eyes. He was quick to replace the look with cold indifference. However, his grip tightening on the bundle did not escape Sarah's notice.

"He has less than an hour to go," Jareth said, glancing back down at the baby. "He has just made it to the hedge maze."

"Mark won't make it," Toby said in a statement, not a question.

"Unlikely," Jareth said with a sigh. "We can't help him. It is forbidden, young Tobias."

Toby nodded feebly. "What will happen to the baby?"

Jareth made eye contact with Sarah. "Traditionally, she would be adopted by the fae family who is next on the list. But Sarah and I want to ensure that she goes to a human family that will treat her right."

"Will that get you in trouble?" Toby asked, looking worried.

"Indeed," Jareth replied, smiling. "We are already at war with those who would try and discipline us anyway. May as well make it worth it."

Sarah watched as Jareth ran a finger across the brow of the sleeping babe. As her heart twisted again, she looked away. Most of her hoped he wasn't trying to manipulate her into wanting a baby. Rationally, she knew he must be a natural with children as part of his job. He had been doing it for hundreds of years after all. Sarah just couldn't ignore the wistfulness that kept flitting across his features.

They took turns to cuddle the baby as they watched Jareth's clock get closer to thirteen. Sevlydi popped in to check on progress before leaving to Jareth's study again. Or was it also Sarah's study? There was so much of the nitty-gritty they hadn't sorted out yet. Jareth wasn't used to sharing power, and it was an adjustment for him in that regard, as much as it was an adjustment for Sarah to be a royal.

"...your thoughts, Precious?" Sarah heard him ask, as she sat curled in the window overlooking the Labyrinth.

"Oh," Sarah said, startled. "I was just speculating if your office was also my office, or will I get my own space?"

"I can create your own space if you want," Jareth said. "Or you can share mine with me." He leaned closer to her, his breath stirring her hair by her ear. "Anything for you, my love."

Sarah had never believed lovers when they said those words. Jareth was willing to sacrifice having children for her, and that alone made her believe his authenticity. She was about to acknowledge his words when a chime echoed across the throne room. The thirteen hours were up.

"Tobias, may we ask that you watch the child while we go and let her father know he has failed?" Jareth asked his brother-in-law as he gathered his cane and straightened his cloak. "Sarah?"

Sarah took Jareth's outstretched hand and together they vanished from the throne room to reappear in the outskirts of the hedge maze. Mark sat crumpled in a heap upon the dusty tiles.

"It's over, isn't it?" he asked without looking up. "I have lost my child for the second time."

Sarah found a slither of pity in her heart as she looked down at the downtrodden man. He glanced up at her with his blue eyes.

"I treated you like shit, Sar." He openly wept, his grimy fingers gripping his blonde hair in his fury. "You were always too good for me. You deserved better."

"I did," Sarah crouched down beside him.

"You won't come back with me, will you?" Mark asked, a glimmer of hope shining in his eyes. Sarah felt Jareth stiffen behind him.

Sarah gave a wan smile. "No, Mark."

"I have missed you in my life," Mark confessed. "I tried to fill the gaps in my life with other women but I only ever wanted you. I have lost the love of my life and both my children." He gave a loud heartbreaking sob into his trembling hands.

"Remember the good times, Mark," Sarah suggested. "Like the time we chased each other through the forest on our bikes?"

"And it rained so heavily we got soaked," Mark added. "And we sheltered under a tree making up terrible poetry."

"Or the times we stayed up all night playing video games?"

"And we were so tired the next day that we spent the day in the coffee shop sketching the people around us as if they were aliens," Mark smiled, tearfully. "We laughed until we cried that day."

"There is some good in you," Sarah said, softly. "Remember how you would always stand for others on the bus. Or that you would let others go in front of you in queues. You were always quite courteous. And you helped that homeless man get back on his feet."

"You always saw more in me than I was willing to offer," Mark said, his eyebrows rising with surprise.

"Find someone you can be yourself around and you don't have to deceive to get to love you. It will be that much more meaningful." Sarah patted him on his knee. "Perhaps take some courses or go to therapy to learn how to treat women better. And also nip that homophobia in the bud right away."

Mark's eyes darted to Jareth. "Sorry for calling you a gay fairy, I guess."

Jareth gave a cool smile. "I am not a fairy, nor would I necessary say I was gay. I have no preference for bedfellows. Excepting, of course, Sarah."

Mark nodded warily. "That's cool, man."

Sarah watched as Jareth raised his brows and then completely lost interest in him.

"Sarah—my Abby," Mark said, turning back to her. "Will she be OK as a goblin?"

"She will be adopted by a human family." Sarah stood back up, dusting off her hands. "She won't be turned into a goblin. I will personally ensure the family will look after Abby well."

Relief washed over Mark's features. "And Jo?"

"What about her?" Jareth asked, in a bored tone.

"What will she say when I go back without our child," Mark ran his hands through his hair; clumps coming away in his fingers.

"She won't remember that she had a child." Jareth fielded this question with indifference. Though Sarah could see a muscle in his jaw twitch as he looked down on the pathetic heap at his feet. "You are the only one who will remember Abby."

"I suppose better go back and face the music," Mark said, standing up. "I will be more careful with my words from now on."

Jareth looked away but Sarah nodded her head. Despite every hurt he had committed against her, she felt such pity for him. She nearly gasped with surprise as he bowed to her.

"Your Highness," he said, sniffing.

"It's Your Majesty," Jareth corrected, absently.

"Make sure that you keep Sarah happy." Mark jabbed a shaky finger at Jareth's chest plate. Jareth coldly looked from Mark's face to his chest.

"It is not his responsibility to make me happy," Sarah said quietly, trying to divert Jareth's murderous look from her ex. "Never look to another person to be your source of happiness, Mark. It will only lead to disappointment. Find someone you can celebrate each other's joy with."

"I didn't know I married a book of motivational quotes," Mark teased, tears clumping in the wrinkles formed by his eyes when he grimaced.

"I wish you the best of health," Sarah said as Jareth fashioned a crystal. "Mark, take care of yourself."

Jareth threw the crystal at Mark's chest, his eyes widening as he was sucked back to his realm. Sarah remained staring at the spot long after he disappeared from it.

Sarah?" Jareth placed his hand on her shoulder. "We need to get Abby to a new family before Fiv and Kuyt demand her."

Sarah nodded and held her hand out for him to take. He gripped it in his hand and pulled her close. "Remember he wished his child away so he could sate his carnal desires, Sarah. Do not fret for him."

"I do not know how you have managed this job for years," Sarah said, rubbing her cheek.

"Centuries."

"Whatever," Sarah replied. "It is demoralising. It's like playing at being a god, but with a conscience."

"Do not let it dismay you, my love," Jareth soothed, wrapping her into his embrace. "It will be over soon."

"If we survive the war," Sarah said, conceding defeat.

"We won't just survive, we will flourish," Jareth mumbled into her ear. He gripped her under the arm and whisked them away to the throne room. Sarah collected the baby from Toby, tucking her blankets around her a bit tighter.

"Shall we?" Sarah said, exhaling through her nose. Jareth took her in his arms again before they disappeared to Ghent. It had been a while since she had been in the village and it was no different. Jareth let go and they walked through the almost empty streets together, side by side.

"It feels like a different life since I was last here," Sarah said, wistfully.

"I can not believe you were here for two years under my nose, without me knowing," Jareth said, equally wistfully.

"Sevlydi told you how I had seen you at the parade," Sarah probed. "It took me by surprise to see you make some magic for the children. I had to hear about it for hours afterwards. I never imagined you would be so considerate to the children."

"I can not believe my brother saw you and chose to not to say anything," Jareth growled, holding Sarah tighter to his side. "And children love magic. It makes me happy to give them joy."

"What would you have done if you had seen me?"

"Parted the crowd and sought you out," Jareth said without hesitation. "Fuck the parade."

Sarah laughed, as she snuggled deeper into him. Jareth's face split into a grin as he looked down at his wife in his arms. They drew up to the front door of Cloverfield Cottage, and Jareth rapped briskly on the door.

Liam pulled the door open and saw the Goblin King before he saw Sarah. He lowered himself into a bow and then did the same to Sarah.

"Your Majesties," he greeted, solemnly.

"No need for that, Liam," Sarah said, with a gentle smile. "It's just me."

"You are the Queen," Liam responded.

"To you and Helena, I will always be just Sarah."

Jareth cleared his throat as Abby squirmed in her arms.

"Ah, may I welcome you into my home, Your Majesty and er, Sarah?" Liam said, holding the door wider and gesturing inside. Sarah followed with Jareth taking up the rear. They entered the cottage and as soon as Helena saw Sarah she rushed to hug her.

"Watch out for the baby," Sarah warned. Helena looked down at the bundle as she pulled away.

"You had a child, Mistress!" Helena exclaimed, shocked.

"This is not mine," Sarah quickly replied, glancing at her husband whose face remained typically bland. "She is a wished-away."

"A Stolen Pearl," Liam muttered.

"We were hoping you knew someone who would adopt this baby as their own," Jareth said, getting right down to business.

"What of the fae?" Liam said, rubbing his chin.

"It is only fair to warn you that Navas has declared war against us." Jareth handed the Sprigetts a scroll. "Here it details all the measures we have in place for everyone's safety. And as you are particular friends of the Queen, you are welcome to come to the castle for added safety."

"War?" Helena gasped.

"Unfortunately, yes." Jareth straightened his gloves. "So it is imperative that we find a safe, warm house for this babe before it breaks out."

"Why, on bog's green earth, has Navas declared war?" Liam asked, nonplussed as he brewed tea for everyone. He swore, then collected himself as he remembered he was situated in front of royalty. He lowered his head in respect, flushing faintly from his outburst. Helena just rolled her eyes and continued slicing a cake.

"They disapproved of my wife," Jareth answered, unperturbed.

Helena and Liam both shot Sarah awkward, apologetic looks.

Sarah shrugged. "It's actually fine. I don't approve of his wife either."

Jareth narrowed his eyes at Sarah and then smiled benignly at the Spriggets. "Sarah is coming around to the idea of being married to me."

"Am I?" Sarah asked as she accepted a cup of tea from Liam.

"Yes, my dear," he answered, "you are."

Sarah took a sip of her tea, watching him over the rim of her cup. The two Spriggets busied themselves to occupy the cumbrous silence that followed the quarrelling monarchs.

"It is so good to see you, Sarah." Helena passed her a piece of cake. "We have missed you plenty. Especially Miss Peggy."

"I miss you all too," Sarah professed, forking a piece of her cake. "When I left you, I didn't expect to return, after so long, as a Queen."

"Sure," Helena began, "you expected to marry the gardener."

"I wouldn't go that far," Sarah mumbled. She felt Jareth's hand on her knee under the table. He gave it a reassuring squeeze and then left it sitting there. Sarah had half a mind to push his hand away but instead found herself placing her hand on top of his.

Abby chose this moment to start squirming, in the crook of Sarah's arm. She reluctantly took her hand off Jareth's hand to stroke the temples of the wee babe. She was hushing the baby when Helena rose and gathered the baby out of her arms and started rocking her.

"It's been so many years since we've had a baby in the house," Helena said, coddling the small bundle.

"Do you know a suitable family?" Sarah asked using the time with two free hands to devour the lemon cake.

"Would you object to us taking the baby?" Liam asked, glancing at Helena who nodded imperceptibly. Sarah, in turn, looked to Jareth who smiled encouragingly and patted her on the knee.

"No, we have no objections," Sarah answered, equanimously.

"Her name is Abby," Jareth notified them. They both nodded and said greeted Abby warmly, with smiles and kisses. "'I have one more request."

All three of them looked up to Jareth sitting imperiously upon his chair as if it was a throne, spinning his teacup around in circles in his saucer with magic.

"I was all set to make Her Royal Majesty, Queen Sarah, my Ambassador between the Goblin City and the human villages," he divulged, running his finger and thumb down the handle of his now still teacup. "You have taken on an extra mouth to feed. I was wondering if your eldest child would like to earn some extra coins by assisting with this role."

"Oh, Alicia would be highly suitable!" Sarah exclaimed. Helena and Liam looked between each other, and then at Sarah.

"We can discuss the finer details after the war," Jareth went on. "I am planning on asking Sarah's brother—my brother-in-law—Tobias Williams, to also assist with the role."

"Your brother, Sarah?" Helena asked, her eyes wide.

"Yes, Jareth and Prince Sevlydi both helped me rescue him," Sarah said, with a grin. "He lives in the castle with me."

"We would have to ask Alicia in the morning," Liam answered, returning to the topic at hand. "All the children are abed currently. And it should be her decision."

"Just so," Jareth replied, taking a sip of his tea. "I am a supporter of women making their own choices and carving their own destinies."

Sarah had taken a sip of her tea at the most inconvenient time. She sputtered in the most undignified manner.

"How Unqueenly of you," Jareth teased as they made their way back into the night. Sarah and Jareth had spent another hour or so with the Spriggets ensuring the baby had everything she needed and that all the magical wards were intact. Jareth gifted them a crystal to use that would bring them all to the castle if the war ventured too close. He assured them that he would do the best to make sure the war would never travel this far. "Coughing all over the cake."

Sarah promised she would visit the Sprigets often to see how Abby was settling in. It was unfortunate she didn't get to see the children on this visit, but with Alicia potentially working for them, she was sure to keep in contact with them more often.

Sarah took a deep breath of the chilly night air and looked up the hill. "One day you need to walk with me up that hill as yourself and not Terry. You owe me."

Jareth looked up the hill, frowning. "We can do just that now."

"It's the middle of the night and it has been an exceptionally long day."

"I can turn back time," Jareth said, dismissively. "I can give you a few more hours of sleep when we get home." He took her hands rubbing the backs with his thumbs. "The view of the Labyrinth is stunning at night," he cajoled.

"Fine," Sarah acquiesced. She took his hand in his and started marching up the hill past the cows dozing in the fields. Jareth released her hand and snaked his arm around her waist, pulling her close. He hummed as he walked, the sound soothing and melodic. He had retired his cane but still walked with a slight limp, so they took the ascent at a pace he could match, though with his arm around her, Sarah found she bore a fair bit of his weight.

They reached the pinnacle and looked down upon the Labyrinth. It was lit up by moonlight as well as torches spread intermittently throughout the twisting paths. She had seen the Labyrinth at night, but there was something magical about seeing the entire expanse from the outer edges, rather than the centre.

"It is so beautiful, but it has so much potential to be forbidding too," Sarah remarked as Jareth slipped behind her and rested his chin on her shoulder.

"Are you describing the Labyrinth or me?" Jareth teased.

"You," Sarah teased back.

"You find me beautiful?" Jareth kissed her neck, behind her ear.

"You know you are," Sarah said, half laughing, half moaning.

"Tell me," Jareth murmured into her neck.

"So your ego can prance and preen?"

"If every single creature on this plane of existence told me I was beautiful, it would mean very little," Jareth explained. "I know I am beautiful, so it wouldn't change my opinion of myself, but for some odd reason, your opinion has come to matter to me more than my own."

"I am pretty sure I have answered this question before," Sarah answered with a sly smile.

"I would like to hear you say it again, precious."

"I find you beautiful, Jareth," Sarah answered with an air of reluctance. "Like a diamond, crawling with cockroaches and sitting in the middle of a lake of acid."

"Charming," Jareth replied, gripping her tighter. "Do you think I have merely the potential, or do you think I _**am**_ forbidding?"

"Didn't you want me to fear you once upon a time?"

"I did." Jareth swept her hair over her shoulder so he could gain better access. He left an open-mouthed kiss against the tender flesh of her neck. "Now I have you quaking and trembling for quite different reasons."

"Well, you definitely have the potential, Jareth," Sarah replied, closing her eyes to his kisses. "You are a magical creature after all. Magic and power can corrupt even the noblest of creatures."

"Mmmmm," Jareth mumbled through his kisses. "How you corrupt me, you precious thing."

* * *

Sarah was studying her scars in the mirror. They were merely white lines now; barely noticeable. She applied the cream and then left the bathroom. She discovered Jareth sprawled on his bed with a book held above his face. He put it down when he noticed her enter. He offered a smile. A smile that sent thrills through her entire body; it was both dangerously captivating and endearing. She smiled back. Hers was probably lopsided and dopey looking.

They had just returned from their walk up the hill and as promised Jareth reset time so they could head straight to bed and get a full night's sleep.

"You seem to be neglecting your bathroom and bed-chamber these days," Jareth observed, as Sarah dumped her soiled clothing on the ground.

Sarah almost blurted out that she was avoiding her moonstone at all costs. "Are you complaining?"

"Not at all, my love," Jareth answered, grinning. "Though you must be tired after the day we've had."

"I am Queen," Sarah remarked. "I am probably going to have days like this for the rest of my life."

Jareth sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "If I could relieve you of your burden—"

"It was my choice," Sarah said, dismissively.

"—which would not be yours if the cards weren't all stacked against you," Jareth pointed out.

"Are you not arrogant enough to believe you would have convinced me to marry you even if none of this had happened?" Sarah asked facetiously.

"Interesting question." Jareth propped himself up against the headboard, taking his reading glasses and placing them on the cabinet next to him. "Quid pro quo, Sarah. I will answer your question if you answer mine."

"Fine," Sarah answered.

"I am arrogant, but when it comes to you, I find myself disorientated," Jareth explained. "I am unsure that any timeline we embarked upon would have you willingly become my wife, as much as I would desire it. So no, I am not arrogant enough to believe you would marry me if circumstances had been different. I have never felt this way before, and that is in part why you intrigued me so."

Sarah sat down on the edge of the bed. She nodded her head slowly, unsure of how to answer.

"Now, my question," Jareth continued, tapping his finger against his bottom lip. Sarah felt her eyes drawn to the action, suddenly overcome with the desire to have those lips exploring her body. "Is there any conceivable way that if things had been different, I could have ever wooed you and ultimately had you as my wife in meaning, and not just in name?"

"Another incredible hypothetical there, Jareth," Sarah answered, sighing. "But if those metaphorical cards had been stacked differently, I think there may have been a chance I could have married you willingly. But then if things were different, I may not have wanted to leave my home to live with you here."

"I would sacrifice my Kingdom for you," Jareth said, sounding quite as surprised as she was to hear him say it. He closed his eyes and cursed. "I mean…"

Sarah slid off her robe and crawled across the bed to him. He opened his eyes as she ran her hands down under his black shirt. "We have both sacrificed enough to be together, Jareth."

* * *

Sarah kissed him then; their lips meshing in heated, sensuous rapture. Jareth's bottom lip grazed hers as he scooped her into his lap. His tongue probed hers, finding the right rhythm of their kiss together. He had never been enamoured with the act of kissing, preferring to see sex as purely mechanical and for pleasure. But kissing Sarah had turned that point of view on its head. Once perceived as far too intimate, it was now a treasure Sarah bestowed on him; like pearls, so different and so rare.

They enchanted him. He wanted to spend time just exploring her with kisses. He wanted to pour his heart and soul into every kiss, so Sarah knew just how she affected him emotionally and spiritually. Already, on a physical level, he was feeling affected; his cock twitched and hardened as he melted under her embrace. He brought his hand up under the skirt of her deep blue nightdress and over her creamy thighs. He could feel the heat radiating from her core as his knuckles grazed her soft curls.

Jareth pulled away from her to catch his breath. She took that moment to carry on kissing down his jawline to his collarbone. He continued to draw patterns across the tender inner flesh of her thighs. His fingers were quickly coated in her liquid arousal as they brushed past her cunt. A wave of giddiness swept over him as he sensed how affected she was by him. Bringing his partners to the high points of pleasure had always been easy for him, but this was **Sarah**! Her clear desire for him was empowering in a manner that he had never experienced before.

At this juncture, he was wholly unprepared for her seeking her own pleasure. She straddled him, knocking his hand away from her centre in the process. She shuffled back, and then gripped him firmly around his hips with her hands and pulled him back so he was lying flat on the bed. She moved higher up his body until she was sitting on his chest.

"You still have yet to taste me, Your Majesty," Sarah said, confidently, her eyes dark, her tongue darting out to moisten her lips.

"Indeed," Jareth said, huskily. He ran his fingers up from her knees to her hips. "And how am I supposed to taste you when you sit upon my chest?"

His cock stiffened further as she brought her hand to her cunt and started touching her folds.

"I can do it myself, Jareth," she warned, her voice thick. "Or do you want to taste me?"

Jareth swallowed. "Sa-rah."

She smiled coyly before sidling further up his chest until her knees were either side of his head. She gripped tightly to the headboard and then peered down at him as he lay watching her squirm above him. "Taste me, Jareth."

Jareth groaned as he reached up, and held her waist. He lowered her body until he could reach her dripping cunt. He placed his tongue dead centre, giving it a few experimental swirls. She moaned heatedly. He speared her core with his tongue with some violent thrusts, initiating a low moan from Sarah each time. He held her hips firmly as she tried to gyrate away from his punishing tongue. He grinned to himself, before swiping up to her bundle of nerves in one languid stroke.

Jareth felt her tremble as he struck gold. Sarah let out a shocked gasp as he swirled his tongue around her clit, gaining momentum the more she squirmed and moaned. He gripped her waist tighter, ruching up her nightgown in the process. He couldn't see her face in this position as she had tilted her head back in her ecstasy. Jareth had noticed her breasts had slipped out of the confines of the gown to which his cock spasmed appreciatively. He longed to take those rosy pink buds in his mouth and have her shuddering instantly.

"Jareth, I—" she started before cutting herself off with a moan. Jareth chuckled into her folds, before she stiffened, shuddered and let out a long moan. Sarah's muscles twitched and tightened until she found release. Jareth slowed down his tongue as Sarah trembled above him, her breasts heaving with her panted breaths. He placed his tongue hard against her clit as she rode out her orgasm. When she was fully sated he encouraged her to lay down next to him.

Feeling her slickness covering his chin, he wiped it with his fingers, and then licked off the juices as she watched. She screwed up her nose but continued to watch anyway. He waved the rest of the liquid away with magic.

"That was a pleasant surprise, my love," Jareth said, allowing Sarah to snuggle up to his chest.

"Mmmph," Sarah said in a daze.

Jareth chuckled. "I have been dying for a taste of you."

Jareth was still incredibly and painfully hard but as he looked down at Sarah, he could see she was starting to doze off.

"Damn."

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: yeah, sorry Jareth - I was getting disappointed with the lack of cock-blocking recently... I mean it only happened twice in the last chapter LOL. 
> 
> Credit to Savage Garden for the line "so different and so rare." It is from the song Tears of Pearls - the inspiration for this story.
> 
> So after this chapter, there is only three more left to publish. Ahhhhhhh. I am currently writing the last chapter before the epilogue. 
> 
> Thank you, to my ongoing supporters as well as anyone just joining us. I hope you are still enjoying this. 


	26. Chapter Twenty-Five

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

"So how do we destroy the book?"

"It is still night time, my love," Jareth informed her with a yawn. He ran his hand through his hair trying to flatten the hair that was sticking up at odd angles. Sarah didn't notice any change despite his efforts. She reached over and tucked a few strands down behind his ear. He moaned at her touch. "Let's continue snuggling."

Sarah elbowed her husband, playfully. "We have both had adequate rest due to the many times you turned back the clock."

"Using all that magic has worn me out, precious," he said, with another yawn. He snaked his arm around her body as she lay next to him and pulled her flat against his chest. As enticing as it would be to spend an entire day wrapped up in his arms, she knew they had work to do. She pushed herself back away from him, unsuccessfully though, as he tucked her hip back under his arm.

"So, is there a volcano aptly named Mount Doom, into which we can chuck the book, and thus save the world?"

"No, there is no such thing as Mount Doom," Jareth answered, groggily. "There is a hill aptly named the Hillock of Disgruntlement."

"Does it have lava strong enough to destroy the red book?"

"No, it's just a hill." Jareth rubbed his eyes.

Sarah sighed. She stretched languidly, her bottom rubbing against Jareth's groin in the process.

"Careful, love," Jareth warned, nipping lightly on her ear. Sarah suddenly remembered the night before. She felt heat creep into her cheeks as she recalled his mouth between her legs giving her infinite pleasure. It took a moment to realise the blush was from desire and not embarrassment. She clamped her legs tightly together to try and ease the rising arousal.

"Jareth?"

"Mmm?"

"Did I fall asleep before I reciprocated anything?" Sarah asked.

"Reciprocated what?" Jareth asked, muffled by her shoulder.

"You know."

"Do I?"

Sarah sighed and then wriggled free of his grip. He moaned in dismay, his eyes firmly shut and his hands reaching out for her.

"Roll over, Jareth," Sarah ordered. "On to your back."

"You dare instruct me?" Jareth's voice deepened. A smile tugged at the corner of Sarah's mouth. Part of her was turned on by his commanding tone, despite it being playfully meant.

"Apologies, Your Majesty." Sarah swiped her tongue along the exposed flesh of his midriff. Jareth shuddered and grunted, his eyes opening wide to see Sarah kneeling by his side.

"About time you started paying me the due deference I deserve," Jareth murmured, a hint of a smile teasing his lips. Sarah was tempted to kiss that burgeoning smile clean off his lips.

"Would you be so kind as to roll over onto your back, Your Majesty?" Sarah said in a falsely timorous voice. He obliged, showing Sarah that his anatomy was already responding to her, making her clit throb in response. Sarah arched her brow at Jareth, and he bit his lip in return.

"Forsythia had me believing that you wouldn't be so easily pleased by a mere mortal, Your Grace," Sarah simpered, batting her eyelids.

"I was envisioning the veritable feast I enjoyed last night, Sarah," he said, in throaty tones. "I did, however, seek my pleasure elsewhere, after you saw fit to fall asleep."

"Poor Hoggle," Sarah said sadly, followed by dramatic gagging.

"Damn it, Sarah," Jareth cursed. "Are you purposefully trying to kill the mood?"

Sarah pitched forward, giggles bubbling all the way up as she watched Jareth's emotions play out. He eventually unclenched his fists and smoothed his features, but a slight tinge of ire still danced within his eyes. Sarah howled with glee and wiped tears from her eyes.

"You deserved it entirely," Sarah responded. "Teasing me into thinking you were getting your rocks off elsewhere."

"Not with another person, my love," he said as he sat up. He laced his arms around her and pulled her towards him. "With my own hand, in the bathroom. It didn't take me very long and I had very enticing visuals to help me climax."

"Romantic," Sarah mocked.

"I didn't want to disturb you, but I was _painfully_ aroused after enjoying your delights," Jareth reasoned. "I was just trying to be considerate, but rest assured I have no need for reciprocity."

Sarah snorted inelegantly. "Are you telling me that the Goblin King is selfless in bed?"

"Not at all." Jareth ran his thumb over her bottom lip. "I selfishly only want any sexual interaction with you that is willing and enthusiastic. I am not one for self-denial, however, so I will not apologise for seeing to my own needs. Without your complete and utter willingness, I may as well be masturbating."

Sarah studied his face and saw nothing but sincerity in his mismatched eyes. She leaned in and planted a soft kiss on his brow, smoothing his frown lines and his markings with her thumbs. "Perhaps I could see to your needs right now."

Jareth gave a pointy smile. "I will not stop you."

Sarah slid down his pants with ease and pumped his cock a few times with her hand. Though it was so hard there would be little need to tease and coax his erection along. Jareth's eyes instantly fluttered closed and he growled at the back of his throat. Sarah shifted her body so she was kneeling on his side. Jareth instantly came up to cup her breasts with one of his hands as she lowered her mouth to his cock.

Sarah swiped her tongue from the base to the tip, where she swirled it around a few times, before grasping the base in one hand. Simultaneously palming and licking him, caused Jareth to inhale sharply and squeeze her breast tighter than expected. Sarah mewled in pain and Jareth cracked an eye open to look at her.

"Apologies Sarah," he said, huskily. He ran a soothing hand over her breast then slid it down to her thigh. Sarah continued to work his cock, laving the tip with her tongue before she thrust it into her mouth as far back as she could manage it. Jareth cried out a throaty, "Oh, gods," as his fingers dug into her thigh.

Sarah turned to see Jareth watching her with dark eyes. His teeth pierced his lip as he watched her suck him, and his expression alone was enough to have desire creep under her skin and straight to her centre. She picked up her speed as she slid her free hand under his balls to rub the sensitive patch with her fingers. Jareth inhaled sharply, bucked his hips and groaned as she pressed hard against it with the pad of her thumb. The muscles in his stomach rippled deliciously as he squirmed under her touch.

Sarah watched Jareth run his free hand over his lithe, pale body, tantalisingly pinching his dark nipples before twisting his hand into the sheet. Sarah soaked up every single one of his reactions, fuelling her own arousal. She eased off the sucking and concentrated on pumping her hand while licking all his sensitive spots. She elicited some moans and pants as she sucked on each of his testicles before guiding his cock back into her mouth. The moment her mouth made contact with the velvety soft tip, he groaned loudly and thrust up hard and fast into her mouth. Sarah gagged slightly, before regaining control.

"Sa-rah,'' Jareth drawled in a gravelly whisper. She whipped her tongue around her mouth faster before he offered one final thrust; his cock hitting the back of her mouth. She could feel his cock pulsing in her hand with his orgasm before her mouth filled with hot spurts. When Jareth had finished moaning, and the pulsing receded, she licked him a few more times before removing her mouth. As he opened his eyes to look at her, she swallowed his come and ran her fingertip over her lip to wipe away any that had escaped. Jareth captured her hand and pulled her finger deep into his mouth and swirled his tongue around.

A small groan escaped from Sarah as she watched him, and felt stirrings at her centre as all the nerves in her finger danced. Sarah was imagining that tongue on her clit, when he released her with a sharp-toothed smile.

"You are a lady of many talents, my love," he said, hoarsely as he pulled her back down beside him. Sarah didn't really think so. It was not something she had enjoyed with her previous partners, but on reflection, it may have been due to the lack of reciprocity. Mark would, especially, take from her and then never give. It made her a tad resentful after a while. Sarah only had so much generosity to give. Thank goodness, she had a vibrator which she often used while her husband slept. Something told her that her current husband would rarely leave her wanting.

* * *

They had been interrupted shortly after Sarah had finished pleasuring Jareth, and so Sarah had been the one left aroused and unsated. Goblins had come to announce a Navas patrol had been seen scouting on the outer rim of the Kingdom. Jareth instructed a counter patrol to go and shadow their every move. They then went to breakfast before starting the business of the day.

After a few hours of tedious war planning, Sarah left to get some fresh air on one of the balconies overlooking the Labyrinth. She had just turned around to return to being closeted in the war room, when firm, gloved hands wrapped around her waist.

"My love," Jareth greeted her into the crook of her neck. Sarah's arousal came flooding back as if it had never left. Without another word, Sarah spun around and threw her arms around Jareth's neck and dragged him until her back was against the wall. He started kissing her lips passionately, but Sarah pulled away, sliding her hand down his torso and releasing his cock from his pants. Jareth tried to reignite the kiss, but Sarah buried her mouth into the side of his neck instead. She palmed his erection until it was sinfully hard and then lifted herself so she could throw her legs around his waist. Jareth groaned but pushed her hard against the wall to support her. She ground into his erection, gaining some relief from the friction.

"Fuck me, Jareth," she pleaded, hooking her legs around his hips tighter.

"I have to take this first," Jareth said, as he released one hand to form a crystal. With a flick his wrist he converted the crystal into a vial with blue liquid floating in it. At her curious look, he explained, "to prevent any unwanted babies."

He tipped the vial into his mouth and swallowed with a grimace. Sarah's heart pounded at the thought of his consideration. But desire overrode her appreciation, and so she pressed herself hard against his cock.

"Are you sure you want to do this here?" Jareth asked before she gripped his cock tightly in her hand. He swallowed his words. Without another moment's hesitation, he removed her undergarments and then rubbed his erection against her saturated folds. They moaned together before he impaled her with his cock into her wet heat.

Sarah gasped as she felt him enter her to the hilt. She had never experienced such exquisite fullness. Jareth held her there for a few moments to let them both adjust; his eyes dark, his mouth slightly parted. He nipped lightly at her neck, licking where he bit. Then he inhaled the scent of her hair as he withdrew gently from her. Sarah moaned at the sudden emptiness but it was short-lived as he thrust his way back in again.

It was uncomfortable and slightly painful riding against the wall, but Sarah was so turned on, she barely noticed as he thrust and thrust into her. Sarah could feel his eyes on her, but she shut hers tight to enhance the sensations. He alternated between grunts and moans, and his gloved fingers dug deeper and deeper into her buttocks as he supported her weight. Every second thrust had Sarah crying out in delight.

The tension was spiralling higher and higher until Jareth reached between them and flicked her bundle of nerves with his finger, sending her over the edge. Jareth bucked into her a few more times before he joined her, spurting in hot streams inside her. He didn't withdraw straight away. He held her and caressed her lightly with his gloved hands. Sarah, on the other hand, placed her hand against the slight trail of hair leading down to his cock and pushed gently to ease him out of her. She then swiftly untangled her legs from around his waist, planting them firmly back on the ground. Without looking at him, she ducked under his arms and straightened her skirts and her hair before marching back inside.

* * *

Jareth watched her go, still bracing himself against the wall. He should have been ecstatic to finally have fucked Sarah, but instead, he was filled with a hollowness that he couldn't explain. He sighed deeply as he tried to catch his breath. He tucked his cock, still wet from their mutual climaxes, back into his pants. He took a few moments to straighten his attire before he sat down on a nearby bench, running his fingers through his hair.

" _Fuck me, Jareth."_

How could he refuse, and yet part of him wished he did. He had never turned down willing offers of sex in his life, and on more than one occasion had he fucked someone up against a wall. And he had dreamed about having sex with Sarah for so long, he wondered if it was a case of the fantasy being better than the reality. But no, that wasn't it. Mechanically, it was very good, but it was missing something. Something that left Jareth cold. When it hit him, it was obvious. Their coupling had no emotions attached to it —at least not on Sarah's behalf. After centuries of fucking fae-folk and never involving emotion, it was what he had become accustomed to. It should have felt different to fuck Sarah.

But Sarah wouldn't even kiss him, and it had solely been about a release for her. A quick shag, and then she went on her way. Jareth ground his teeth in frustration. He had wanted their first time to be romantic. He wanted it to be making love, not a quick fuck against the wall. He cursed and placed his head into his hand. He had thought his own will was stronger than this, but he couldn't refuse Sarah anything and she had wanted this so desperately. The thing that left him cold was that they wanted it for very different reasons. He wanted a connection, she wanted pleasure and release.

He laughed at himself then. In all his years, sex had been a mere pleasurable pursuit, he finally found his match and all she wanted from him was satisfaction. And he wanted more. He wanted intimacy and romance and connection, and he was thwarted by the one person he wanted it from. Jareth stood and squared his shoulders. He had no plan, but he was determined to show Sarah the delights of making love, instead of just fucking.

* * *

When Jareth returned to the war room, he scarcely offered a glance in Sarah's direction. Sarah's gut plummeted throughout their meeting as he barely looked at her and was strangely civil towards her. Sarah's mind went to dark places, She had given Jareth what he wanted and perhaps it had been disappointing for him. Though it had certainly not been disappointing for her, if not a little painful. Sarah rubbed the slightly bruised crown of her head at the memory.

After the meeting wore on and he uttered yet another polite answer to one of her questions, Sarah had to know if he was upset with her.

"Jareth, can we talk?"

"What do you think we are doing?"

" _Privately,_ please."

Sevlydi rolled his eyes. "We haven't got time for you to 'talk.' We're planning a war. 'Talk' in your own bed at the appropriate time."

"I need to talk to my husband," Sarah repeated, trying hard not to tsk at his crude innuendo. Sevlydi obviously knew what they had been doing an hour or so earlier.

"Sev, please." Jareth indicated the door. Sevlydi looked between both of them, grumbled under his breath before he got up and stalked off.

"If you really wanted me that badly, you could have waited until tonight, Sarah," Jareth said as soon as they were alone. He leaned back in his chair and raised his brows at her. "My, my, my, you are becoming quite insatiable."

"I don't want—" Sarah closed her eyes. "I just wanted to talk to you."

"Is it urgent?"

"Well, do you want this thing that we have between us to work out or not?" Sarah asked, brusquely. At his raised brows, she added, "then we need to have open communication."

"The thing between us?" Jareth lowered his brows and leant forward in his chair. "You mean the thing where I love you, but you only want to fuck me?"

Sarah's mouth flopped open as she watched Jareth's eyes widen. Sarah suspected the realisation of what he said just hit him. Her hunch was confirmed when he spoke.

"What I mean is—" Jareth began.

"You think that I just want quick fucks up against the wall and that's all I want from you."

"Well, is that not the case?"

Sarah sighed. She didn't know what she wanted. She knew she needed time, and she knew that the safest route would be to cease all intimacy until she knew what she wanted. But it surprised her that such a sexual creature would be hurt by her lack of emotional investment in their exploits.

"At that point in time." Sarah crossed her arms over her chest.

"And I don't blame you," Jareth said, in low tones. "I have had my fair share of quick fucks—centuries of them— for the sake of pure pleasure. But with you, it has always been more than just gratification. I —"

"I am sorry, Jareth," Sarah apologised. She didn't recall any other times she actually apologised to him. This may have been a first. She needed to cut off anything else he may have said. She was sorry, but not sorry enough to start venturing into "feelings" territory.

"You're sorry?"

"I may be more similar to you than you thought." Sarah nibbled the side of her lip. "I have learnt to separate sex from emotions, like you."

Jareth gave a feeble nod. "While I have suddenly learnt to integrate them."

"I used you," Sarah admitted. "I used you and that must not feel right to a fae who is used to being the one who manipulates others for his own ends."

Jareth looked briefly struck, but that look dissolved with his sincere nod. "Your insight is most likely the correct one. Though there have been many situations where my partner has used me as equally as I, them."

"You're not one to deny yourself pleasure, remember?"

"Nor would I deny you any, precious," he said without any hint of a smirk.

"You have been very patient with me, and I took advantage of your understanding and forbearance, to take what I wanted," Sarah admitted. "I took advantage of your desire for me, and that's not f— and that's quite cruel of me."

"That's not to say it wasn't a complete pleasure fucking you, because it was," Jareth said slightly off on a tangent. "But I would prefer to make love with you and not just rushed couplings against the wall."

"Who knew you were such a romantic?" Sarah scrunched up her nose.

"Only for the one, I am smitten with."

"So how do we progress from here?"

"You mean do I still want to fuck you even if it is emotionless and just base carnality?"

"Yeah."

"Well, we have the trek to the Pearl caves this afternoon and we still have a book to destroy and then a war to attend," Jareth answered with a rueful smile. "It may be safe to say we won't get any chances to do so until after it is all over. Then perhaps you will be so desperately in love with me that you will make love to me instead of using me for my body and my massive asset."

Sarah inhaled so sharply, she started coughing and spluttering. Memories of having that massive asset seated inside her, even so briefly, had her squirming in her chair.

"You know it's true," Jareth teased. "You are astounded by my magnitude."

"And your humbleness," Sarah said with a snort.

"I have no use for your human concept of humility."

"Clearly!"

Jareth gave Sarah a rather covetous smile. "I love you."

Sarah cleared her throat and played with the ends of her hair. "Shall we call Sevlydi back in?"

* * *

Sarah was standing alone in a pine forest, which she had been assured was still within the Goblin Kingdom. Jareth had meant to be with her. But just as they were getting ready to come here, the goblins burst in and informed them that Navas had started attacking earlier than the petition had stated. Jareth transported her here and then went back to help his brother defend the Kingdom.

Dread and worry had filled her stomach at the realisation that war had finally come. Petty disputes about the nature of their fucking seemed so superfluous and trivial now. People's lives were on the line.

But somehow in this cool, damp place, Sarah felt a sense of ease. The air was scented with pine, reminding her of Jareth's earthy tones. He seemed to smell of every part of his Labyrinth, minus the Bog of course. The boughs creaked in the breeze, and the pine needles hummed as they rubbed against each other. She could feel eyes on her, but she sensed that they were no threat to her. Sarah stepped forward, her booted foot sinking into the soft blanket of dead pine needles, brown and orange like a rust coloured red carpet leading her to the mouth of a cave.

She had a job to do and she walked forward with purpose. Her almost reverential walk was interrupted by the occasional crackle and snap of the sticks she trod on.

* * *

Jareth and Sevlydi stood upon a makeshift parapet overlooking what was fast becoming the battleground. The goblin army stood with weapons and black and gold flags at the ready. Navas was standing their ground, for now, their red and blue flags fluttering in the wind.

Jareth had to send Sarah alone to the pearl caves when he had been informed that Navas was here a day or two earlier than their petition to the High King had suggested. He gritted his teeth at the thought of having to abandon his wife. But his frustration was short-lived. Navas had fired the first shot and so it began.

Of course, they had to have started their assault on the Ghent side of his Kingdom. Just another thing he was wary of that could potentially cause his wife more misery. If they were pushed back, he did fear for his human citizens. Where they were now was mostly just desert. Only the hardiest of desert dwellers ventured out this far and barely anyone lived out here. The tunnels underneath were another story. Created by Eayaworms many moons ago, they were now inhabited by many different creatures that preferred the dark and damp. Jareth didn't necessarily have dominion over them, but he certainly felt responsible for their protection.

It was of course littered with pre-planned traps and Jareth watched as one by one Navas soldiers fell into them. He gave a grim smile as he watched the events unfold beneath him. Sevlydi was assisting him with protective magic for their army as they surged forward. Jareth hoped losses would be minimal. Loving someone with one's whole heart should not result in the death of innocents. Love should not be this complicated.

* * *

Sarah jumped back with surprise as she saw a creature lumber towards the entrance of the cave that looked just like —

"Ludo?"

"No," the rock-caller answered in a surprisingly high-pitched voice. "Delda."

"Oh!" Sarah exclaimed. "Hello Delda, I am Sarah."

"Sarah, Queen," Delda responded with a nod. "Delda know who you are."

"Yes, I am the Queen."

"Sarah friend!"

"Yes, Delda," Sarah said, quietly. She wondered if the rock-caller knew Ludo. They were both the same shade of red, though Delda was slightly shorter than Ludo, with longer, sharper horns.

"Sarah came to visit the shiny rocks?"

"Yes, Delda, I have come to visit the shiny rocks." Sarah was not one hundred per cent sure what she was doing here. Clutched in her hand was the red book. Supposedly, Briyash had told Jareth that she would find answers inside the cavern. Sarah doubted she would find answers from Delda. But maybe the rock caller was a key to show her the way.

"You enter there, Queen Sarah friend," Delda said, with a nod and a wave towards the entrance. Sarah thanked her and entered the cave. The walls were glinting with unharvested pearls. Apparently, she couldn't touch them. Magic protected them so that only when a pearl had been chosen, could it be removed. The more powerful you were, the higher the calibre of pearls you could choose from. Of course, this was different if a bridal-pearl was requested. She wasn't here to touch the pearls anyway. At least she didn't think so.

On she went down the tunnel, past the font where the bridal pearls would be received, deeper and deeper underground. Her gut twisted with anxiety with every turn she took in the cavern. It felt like hours that she had walked down through the yawning chasm, the pearls dimmer and fewer the further she delved. It was dark, but still, she could see enough to traverse the rocky terrain.

That was until she stumbled. Kicking her toe on a rock, she went sprawling into the ground. Filtering through the pain came an awareness that what was shrouded in shadow, was now blanketed in light. Sarah looked up from where she lay on the ground to see what was causing the sudden illumination.

* * *

A flurry of bodies moved as if in a dance, splatters of blood rained down upon the dusty terrain, and the sounds of metal clanging harshly and the sharp zapping of magic resonated all around him. Jareth was in the midst of the battle. A place he had avoided for hours, but eventually necessity sucked him in. His leg ached but he ignored the burning, twisting pain that seared up his ankle with every second step. He couldn't let his subjects die while he stood upon the parapet safe. Sevlydi and any elves or fae that resided in the Goblin Kingdom had joined him to keep the magic flowing.

Jareth was magically more powerful than all of them combined, but this was his fight. His battle. It helped distract him from thinking of Sarah and what she was up to. There were so many unknowns where she was concerned. He longed to be there with her, instead of traipsing across a sandy battlefield with his goblin army.

They were nearly indestructible. They were oddly fond of being kicked. Jareth imagined it would feel like a tickle to them, with such thick skins. What might be seen as giving pain to them, was actually just a sensory experience they lapped up. It made them perfect for battle as hardy as they were.

That wasn't to say they couldn't die. Grygiel, one of the goblins Sarah had become attached to had lost several limbs and ended up being taken away by a medic. Heft wasn't so lucky. Within the first hour, Heft had lost his life. Jareth ground his teeth at the memory. Sarah had a small, but incredibly loyal band of goblins that Heft had been a part of. He felt the pain of every single loss.

Even while dodging the sharp strikes of the enemy, he was making a mental note of the dead to ensure he would mourn their death appropriately.

Jareth had always felt that war was futile and he would never seek to start one, but he wouldn't leave his Kingdom undefended. And this opportunity was to be grabbed with both hands as a means to finally annex their kingdom from Navas. Sarah had misunderstood his excitement when Effistod declared war. He didn't enjoy war but he did enjoy the thought of independence. Something he could never grab for himself because if went against Navas as the instigator, it would sway the High Council in Navas' favour.

War was frowned upon. The High Council would rather the Kingdoms pretended to be peaceful. Therefore it was usually the defender that got more support than the attacker. That was why he had been jubilant and nearly oblivious to Sarah's absolute terror. Jareth had been looking for a way to antagonise his father enough to declare war. So he wouldn't have to, and he could let Sevlydi marry Rica safely. But now, more importantly, he could legitimise Sarah's reign and his marriage to her.

He sucked in a lungful of dry, blood-soaked air before he cut down the fae in front of him. Three more went down in succession as his magic and poison-laced sword sliced through their midsections. It was such a waste of life. He had grown up with some of these Navastians. They were his fellow countrymen now trained to slaughter him for daring to marry someone he loved.

He turned his thoughts towards Sarah while he waited on the next wave to reach him. His moonstone had been embedded into the back of his medallion. He could feel it's warmth against his skin, but as far as he could tell Sarah no longer kept hers on her person. He gritted his teeth at the thought that she could be lost again, and he wouldn't have the focus to find her. The oncoming wave of soldiers was mere metres away and he was still thinking about Sarah. Would she object to the sealing of a bond between the two of them?

He surmised she would. It would mean being faithful to each other until they died, or they mutually removed the bond-mark. He wouldn't want to restrict her in such a fashion, despite his inherent possessiveness rearing its head and demanding it. Nor would he want to have her vulnerable, however. A bond mark let others know who they were mated to and they'd always be able to find each other without reliance on an external source like a pearl or moonstone. It was something to consider.

Jareth raised his sword and plunged it into the nearest fae, closing his eyes as he took yet another life.

* * *

Sarah scrambled up on to her feet, dusting her hands on her goblin armour the best she could. She was no longer alone. The light that was flooding the cavern was coming from an unexpected source: a unicorn. It was a green and purple one that Sarah suspected was the same one she had already met before.

" _Hi'Live,_ " said the voice in her head.

"Yes."

" _You have come to break the curse_."

"I have?"

" _You have_ ," the unicorn's voice confirmed in her mind. " _You have started the process admirably by returning my tear, the pearl to me. You married the Goblin King, fulfilling the prophecy that you would be the one to break the curse. Then you refused the fae the latest child that was wished away. There is just one more thing you need to do before the curse is broken forever..."_

Sarah sucked in a lungful of stale air. She hoped the last task would be straightforward. She wanted to return to Jareth and make sure he was still safe.

* * *

Days had passed. Jareth had switched his troops over to allow for respite and he had been replaced himself a few times by either Sevlydi or a high ranking elf. The cycles seemed endless and his sleep was fraught or non-existent. Especially as he weaved magic while he dozed to keep the wards intact.

Sarah still had not been sighted. He sent pure magic-owls to see if she had left the cavern and she had not. But she had not taken anything with her but the book, so he assumed something had happened to her to have gone so long without food and water.

The moonstone was still warm, but he was beginning to doubt the efficacy of a lump of stone to tell him if anything untoward had happened to his love. Curse this war! He had slaughtered so many of his fellow fae the blood had soaked through his gloves and gauntlets, staining his hands red even after washing them.

Every night he lamented the fallen; his troops and those he had been fighting. His emotions naturally swelled his song, as his soldiers wept for those that perished. The battle was still being waged in his favour, but it brought him no joy. His worry about Sarah consumed him. He scryed for her endlessly, but the magic of the pearl caverns blocked him. He could see a smokey figure in his crystal but nothing more. He pitched the crystal against the side of his tent, where it bounced off the canvas and shattered upon the rug that covered the sand they camped on.

"Sarah," he said as he held his moonstone between thumb and finger. He felt a gentle hum against his skin and he closed his eyes in relief. He was sure she was still alive at the very least. If it wasn't for putting every soldier at risk, he would have gone straight to her. The uncertainty of her situation scared him. The mighty Goblin King, _scared._ He had to be the first fae King in history to experience such a feeling.

"Why don't you go to her?" Sevlydi asked as he entered the tent, stepping over the shards of glass. It was time for the change of shift. Jareth swung his legs off the side of the cot and glared at his brother.

"She is alive, Sev, but I can not leave my people to their deaths," Jareth said, bitterly knowing Sarah would not approve of being rescued at the expense of hundreds of lives. "I have sent owls to scout for her. We are certain she has not left the cave. The rock-callers have said she has not left. Whatever it was that she found there must be looking after her. If she was in pain, I would know."

"But you won't stop worrying about her until you know she is safe," Sevlydi pointed out.

"No, but what can I do?" Jareth sighed and ghosted his hand over his amulet. "You are not powerful enough to support the wards by yourself. If I leave, the magic will fracture and they will get past us."

"The Labyrinth will still hold them at bay until you return," Sevlydi pointed out.

"At what cost?" Jareth shook his head. "No, Sarah needs to know I trust her enough to let her do this by herself. I can not break her trust in me by deserting the cause. I'd know if she was in pain..."

"How?"

"If I had so much as a breath of pain from her, I would know."

"Again, how?" Sevlydi rolled his eyes impatiently. "As far as I know you haven't got a bond-mark."

"You know of bond-marks?" Jareth gathered his hair into a ponytail as he narrowed his eyes suspiciously at his brother.

Bond marks were rare and almost unheard of magic. Jareth had come across it in a book in his library when he read about the Stolen Pearl that dictated to him who he would marry. Up until that point he had never heard of bond-marks. Not being a faithful species, fae never took the trouble to acquire them. They had been more common with elves before the fae subjugated them to a lower class. But even then, one hadn't been formed in centuries.

"You left the book open and I was curious," Sevyldi replied with a casual shrug. "You don't think Sarah could possibly love you enough to get one of those, do you?"

Jareth sighed and slammed his feet into his boots, ready to go back into battle. "I am not discussing this now."

He stormed out of the tent and felt a slight force graze over his mind. He staggered back from the shock of it, bringing his hands up to his temples.

" _I have her and she is safe_ ," a soothing, trustworthy and familiar voice in his head spoke. Jareth grinned from sheer relief before he went to join the changing of the guards.

* * *

The unicorn had provided Sarah with ample food and water as they travelled deeper into the stark tunnels. The pearls had long finished glittering in the rocky walls. They had stopped to sleep twice under a blanket of silver that was surprisingly warm despite how thin it was. Sarah would alternate between walking next to the unicorn or riding on her back. They would barely communicate aside from pleasantries. Only once, in what Sarah had assumed was days, did they converse.

The Unicorn had told her that Sarah was worried about Jareth. It had not been a question. Sarah agreed and mentioned the war. The unicorn informed her that as her chosen monarch she could sense the Goblin King was still safe and his soldiers still held on strong. Sarah didn't question what she had meant by the chosen monarch, but she was relieved he was still living and fighting. The unicorn then told her she had sent a message telepathically to Jareth to let him know his wife was safe also.

Sarah was still uncertain about what they were doing, but she instinctively trusted the unicorn.

When they came to a stop near what she assumed would be their camp for the night, she started rummaging for supplies in the bag the Unicorn had provided. The Unicorn shook its resplendent head.

"No," the unicorn said in her mind. "It is time."

Time for what, Sarah had wondered but not for long. A few metres away from where they stood was a blue and silver whirlpool moving so rapidly across the surface of a clear underground lake. She could see it not only because of the unicorn's natural illumination but because little lights like stars shone down from the cavern's roof.

" _Throw the book into the whirlpool."_

Sarah crept to the edge, mesmerised by the turbulent water thrashing around. Yet, where the whirlpool did not touch, the water was unnaturally still. The contrast almost caused physical pain to look at. Sarah hefted the book the moment the whirlpool came into reach. The instant the book touched the surface it was sucked straight under and spiralled around and around until it was out of sight.

In the blink of an eye, the cave started rumbling and shaking. Dust fell from the ceiling, preceding stones that dislodged from rocky outcrops. Sarah ducked to the ground, covering her head. The unicorn gracefully stepped over her body like a shield.

"What is happening?" Sarah yelled.

" _You have broken the curse!"_

* * *

Jareth had been stabbed. But still, he ploughed on ignoring the fact he couldn't maintain his stamina for much longer. It was thankfully, not his sword arm but his shoulder of his right side that was gaping open and pouring out blood. He couldn't afford to see a medic right now. He was in the thick of it; sidestepping, dead bodies and hurling crystals at the enemy. He was so close to victory. He saw his brother and sister sitting astride horses mere metres away from where he battled.

He ran through another Navas soldier and turned to face his family. Panting, hair slick with sweat, and bleeding heavily from his arm, he stared his siblings down. Omre just smirked and kicked down at something by his feet. Jareth's eyes flicked down to see a young lady chained, bound and gagged at the hooves of the horse he sat upon. Her long brown hair covered her face like a curtain but there was no mistaking who she was in her black leather Goblin armour.

Sarah.

His stomach plummeted and his gorge rose. His heart froze in his chest as bile burnt his oesophagus. His nostrils flared as he scowled at his brother and sister who both cocked their heads at him and smirked. Jareth gripped his sword so tight his knuckles blanched. If they had harmed her, he would hang them both by their entrails together above a pit of rabid rodents and attach leeches to their eyeballs.

He stepped forward, but he had been so focused on Sarah and his brother and sister he did not see the flaming arrow heading straight for his head.

* * *

The shaking stopped, but the rumbling continued.

" _Come, Hi'Live_ ," said the unicorn.

Sarah pulled herself up from under the equine flanks and dusted herself off.

" _Hop on my back and let's see the results of your work_."

Sarah obeyed and instead of the slow trek they had taken down here, they went galloping the way they had come at a rate of knots. For some inexplicable reason, her shoulder started aching while they journeyed. She absently rubbed it as she replayed her last conversation with Jareth in her head.

" _I have to go into battle, Sarah, but this trek to the pearl caves must still happen," Jareth had said to her. "If we lose the war, we need to know what to do with the book before Navas claims it."_

" _But I don't even know what I am doing," Sarah had whined._

" _Briyash assures me that you will just know what to do when you get there," Jareth consoled her, cupping her cheek. "I will not have you coming to any harm, my love."_

" _And what about you? What if you come to harm?'_

" _Then promise me you will remain the Queen and stay the same caring and loving Sarah I fell in love with," he had said, solemnly. "I will wait for you in the land of the dead when it is your time to move on."_

_Sarah had barely contained her sob._

" _Come now, don't tell me that you would actually miss me?" Jareth had teased her._

" _I don't want you to die," Sarah had insisted._

" _Neither do I," Jareth had agreed. "My incentive for surviving is stronger than ever with you in my life."_

_Sarah had thrown her arms around his shoulders in an uncharacteristic show of affection for her husband. Jareth had weaved his arms around her waist in return with no hesitation. Sarah had wanted to memorise every square inch of him. She had tenderly rubbed her thumb over the two small freckles on his neck. Jareth had shuddered while she planted small kisses along the trail she left with her thumb. She pulled away and cupped his cheek, as she stroked his soft skin she brought her thumb over the small mole above his upper lip as if she could soak up every slight detail with her touch._

_Jareth brought his hand up to her face and kissed her on the lips, sucking in her bottom lip. When they pulled apart, he ran his finger over her matching mole above her top lip, giving her a wry look._

" _You are taking an interest in some of my other flaws, Sarah," he had teased. "Not just my teeth and eyes."_

" _They are not flaws," Sarah had answered vehemently. "They add to your uniqueness."_

" _As does yours. I particularly like the one on your shoulder."_

" _I am just trying to remember you," Sarah had answered, honestly. "In case I never see you again."_

" _I do believe you love me," Jareth had said, biting his lower lip._

" _I am beginning to —" Sarah had answered before she felt she had revealed too much. She had clamped her mouth shut and pulled away._

" _I love you and I will survive if only to hear you say those three words, Sarah," Jareth had replied, his eyes sparkling with light. "I unabashedly and unreservedly love you."_

_Sarah had closed her eyes and sighed. If he was going to his deathbed he deserved to hear the truth as much as she could offer it. "Jareth, I care for you and I am_ _**beginning** _ _to fall in love with you."_

_Jareth had beamed and kissed her on the forehead. "Sarah, my heart, my love. You do not know what joy you have given me."_

The unicorn shifted her weight and Sarah was jolted out of her memories. Her stomach swirled with the thoughts she had almost told him she loved him. And she didn't even know if he was alive. She had retrieved her moonstone before she left and it sat warm against her skin giving her hope.

After half an hour of this, an exit opened up by magic and they burst into the tunnels that contained the pearls. Except the walls of the tunnel were barren and not a single pearl could be seen embedded into the granite rock. However, lining the tunnel on either side was a whole menagerie of beasts. Sarah saw unicorns, dragons, manticores, kelpies as well as so many other creatures that had disappeared from this world. As they went past, they prostrated themselves before her.

" _You have freed us_ ," said the unicorn. " _We owe you our allegiance. Offer us a sanctuary in your Kingdom and we will provide you succour in your hour of need_."

Sarah grinned. "Sanctuary is yours!"

* * *

When Jareth did notice the flaming arrow it was almost too late. And it would have been his death if a set of golden talons hadn't grabbed it gracefully out of the air and stopped it in its tracks. Jareth saw, to his astonishment a gryphon hovering above his head. Jareth glanced to Nudalun and noticed the horrified look etched onto her face. He followed her gaze and saw a whole herd of creatures and beasts coming up behind him. The soldiers scattered and the creatures consisting of unicorns, kelpies, centaurs, manticores, harpies, and phoenixes circled the three regents.

It was unexpected, to say the least. Jareth's heart was racing, from his near-death experience, but also the fact that extinct creatures and beasts were parading around the battlefield. Jareth called the command to ceasefire. A foolish Navastian shot an arrow and a dragon blew it back towards the offending soldier with ease. The soldier crumpled and burst into flames instantly. Jareth shook his head at the needless waste of life.

The creatures were still moving in a circle around the four figures. Jareth took the moment of distraction to look towards Sarah, still crumpled at the feet of the horses. At first, it looked like she wasn't moving but after a few moments, he could see she was watching the creatures. He had to think fast. How was he going to get her off his siblings without risking her life, or his?

Dead bodies were strewn between him and his foes. And at this point, he didn't quite know whose side the circling beasts were on. He lowered his sword as he contemplated his options. The horses were jittery with the commotion, and Jareth didn't want to spook them into stampeding his precious into the ground.

A groan coming from nearby got his attention. A Navas soldier lay within the heaped pile of bodies directly by his foot. He glanced down and saw blue eyes blinking open to stare at him. The boy coughed and tried to say something. Jareth pulled a dagger out of his boot and then crouched down closer to the young soldier. Jareth quickly scanned his surroundings before glancing down at the boy.

"Speak, child," Jareth prompted. For the sake of plausible deniability, he started wrapping linen around his shoulder wound in case anyone looked to see what he was doing.

"Jareth...I found you," came a familiar but broken, parched and hoarse voice. He looked deep into the boy's eyes and realised he was no boy child, but rather a woman. He bit back a gasp and hurriedly surveyed the vicinity. When he realised it was safe — the horses were still stomping in agitation, but the Prince of Navas and the Queen of Haddyne were distracted by the herds of beasts marching in ever-decreasing circles— he looked back down into the face of his once almost wife.

"Forsythia!" Jareth grabbed her roughly by the arm. "What are you doing?"

"My life— my life it has never been my own," she rasped. "I was given a chance to...do something right with...my life, and I— I took it." She coughed violently making Jareth notice the bubbles of blood at the corner of her lips.

"It is not right to waste your life in a war, Sythia." Jareth used his magic to find her wounds. He couldn't heal them but he could minimise the pain and the suffering.

"I didn't...become a soldier to...fight." Her voice cracked. "I came to...make things right. To tell...you...something."

"So tell me," Jareth implored, impatiently, returning to his shoulder dressing.

"That's...not...Sarah" was all she managed to say with her harsh voice.

"That's not Sarah?" Jareth glanced at the brunette wearing Sarah's clothing.

"It's a...trick," she said. "Everything...about her...is...just a...fac—facsimile. Your...father copied...her...armour after he met her. It's...a lure. A distraction."

"How can I trust that you are telling the truth?"

"What choice...have you got?" Forsythia's hands curled into the bloody sand beneath her. "I am...dying, Jareth."

"Why would you want to help me?" As he spoke he sent a crystal to his medics.

"In the Aboveground...Forsythia is a plant...that flowers in the...spring. It is a symbol...of anticipation. I read...that it represents the ...longing for the sun after a long and...cold winter. My... whole life... I have been living... in winter. Trained to be your...wife — a wife that you...didn't—didn't even want. This is an... opport...unity for me to see the...sun, Jareth. Don't fall into the...trap. Don't let... my death be...in...vain."

Jareth took a cursory glance around him before he reached down and stroked Forsythia's hair— hair that had been cropped short. "I have summoned a medic, Sythia. I won't let you die."

"Please, Jareth," she croaked. "I have said...what I needed to say. I...am at peace now."

Jareth felt stirrings of emotions as he watched Forsythia struggle to take in shallow breaths. Blood bubbled from her lips with every grating breath. She closed her eyes and unclenched her fists as she started welcoming death. Jareth growled and used some of his reserves to open up a portal from where they were to the medic tent. He placed a crystal atop of Forsythia's chest and let the portal take her. He stuck his dagger back into his boot and grabbed his sword. Sarah wouldn't have let her die. Her family's crimes were not her crimes after all.

He glanced towards the possible replica of Sarah still curled up on the ground. He curled his lip in disgust at his brother and sister as he strode towards them.

"Don't take a step further, Jareth," Nudalun cried from her saddle. "One further step and we will murder your whore."

He inhaled deeply as he took that last step. He smirked at Nudalun and Omre, while internally he was begging that Forsythia was telling the truth. But then another thought stopped him— it might not be Sarah, but it could be another innocent life he was risking. Sarah would never forgive him for letting an innocent die just because he was seeking revenge.

"Where is my father?" Jareth asked instead. "He declared this war, yet I do not see him. I guess he won't risk death so close to his passing over."

"It is none of your business where MY father is," Omre answered with a haughty sniff. "Call off your army of critters, Jareth."

"No, I don't think I will," Jareth responded eyeing the creatures parading around them. So, they definitely weren't here at Navas' behest then.

"Call them off, or I will slit this trollop's throat," Omre warned, pulling the chain he held, taut. The girl was yanked backwards, the curtain of her hair parting to reveal her mouth gagged and her eyes — her eyes, while green, were not Sarah's. Jareth grinned and raised his face to his brother.

"Omre," he said with a smirk. "Have you not tasted her delights yet?"

"She is mortal filth," Omre responded with a shudder of revulsion. "While attractive as she is, I will not sully myself like you to cavort with such a specimen."

"You're missing out." Jareth shrugged. Omre was highly sexed. More so than he was. He knew Omre was all words when it came to fucking mortals. His denial was always too strong. His father was no stranger to fucking mortals despite his hatred for them. Omre was very much his replica. If not worse. At least Effistod had the decency to not torture them, then fuck them before they were murdered. Omre's proclivities weren't famous, but Jareth knew of them. His stomach roiled at the thought he could have done the same to Sarah if he had ever got hold of her.

And to think, he may have gotten hold of her when the Pinnsburrs had kidnapped her at the ball. He thanked the Bog for having found her in time. Omre liked killing off any evidence that he had fucked a mortal. He should have realised Forsythia was telling the truth based on the fact this imposter was neither dead nor tortured.

"Let her go, and I will let you have a go," Jareth lied. He would walk to the ends of the earth to prevent Omre even laying eyes on his wife again.

"Why would that bargain work on me?" Omre snarled. "I have no interest—"

"Oh, but you do," Jareth interrupted. "Remember Milly?"

Milly had been a mortal Jareth had caught Omre fucking days before he was imprisoned by Effistod. He watched the lines on Omre's face tighten and his scowl deepen.

"You brought war onto your doorstep for this filthy mortal," Omre declared loudly. "I do not believe you would be willing to share. I will not call your bluff."

Jareth cocked his head and raised his brows in dismissal. "Your loss, brother."

"Do not call me that," he spat.

"I forget how easily riled you get, just like our father," Jareth responded with a laugh. "Anyway, return the girl to me."

"Not until you admit defeat and hand over the Labyrinth," Nudalun interjected. "And call off these beasts."

"That won't be necessary."

Omre pulled the chain tighter until the girl's eyes bugged out of her head. "Hand it over, or your harlot will suffer."

Jareth gritted his teeth. It would be so easy to run him through right now and risk his brother slaughtering the girl and he would still retain his Kingdom. But Sarah would not be happy with him. When had she become his conscience? Is that a side-effect of love?

"I believe the King said it wouldn't be necessary," Sarah's voice cut through the din. All the creatures stopped marching and the silence was eerily heavy. Jareth didn't turn around to see her, Instead, he smirked at his siblings.

"You didn't think I believed that—" he pointed at the fake Sarah — "was my wife and our Queen, did you?"

"If you didn't believe it was her, you would have slaughtered us where we stand," Omre refuted.

"Incorrect," Jareth said, baring his teeth. "This lady may not be my wife, but she is still an innocent."

"An innocent that would happily sacrifice her life to see you dethroned," Nudalun rebutted.

"That's a pity!" Jareth inspected his gloves. "She is on the wrong side if she thinks there is any benefit to helping you. There is no benefit to your people if you drain the Labyrinth of its magic. What were you planning on doing with my magic anyway? Challenging our cousin, the High King?"

"You have all this power and you have no idea how to wield it, you whelp," Omre bellowed.

"So I am correct."

Jareth finally turned away to see Sarah sitting atop an amethyst unicorn, whole and hale. Jareth's system flooded with relief. She smiled at him as she orbited the trio and the faux Sarah from the inside of the circle.

"Omre and Nudalun," Sarah addressed the two perturbed monarchs astride the agitated horses. "Take your remaining troops back to Navas."

"Never," Nudalun yelled. "This is our war to win."

"You have lost," Sarah yelled back. "I have broken the curse and you are surrounded."

"They are forbidden from attacking fae," Omre shrieked, his usual calm facade shattered in the face of his defeat.

"They are no longer under your control," Sarah reminded them. "They are free citizens with wills of their own."

The mythical creatures all took one step forward together. The horses that Omre and Nudalun sat upon reared up and bolted, tossing both monarchs onto the ground. A path was made for the horses through the ranks, leaving Jareth, his siblings and the fake Sarah in their midst.

"Take your troops back," Sarah repeated, as both upended royals scrambled for purchase on the shifting sand.

"We officially petition for Independence," Jareth declared. "We no longer see Navas as our head of state."

Omre started howling with laughter but was cut off by a deep voice that Jareth hadn't heard since he last spoke to him before he even travelled to the Pearl Caves.

"Petition accepted."

It was his cousin, the High King Aviis. The mythical creatures opened ranks so his cousin and a few guards could travel through. He had blonde hair cut to just below his shoulders with two thin plaits looped at the back. He had a strong aristocratic nose and the blue eyes of the fae. His markings were a cool silver over a very dominant brow. A circlet rested slightly below his hairline made of a light blue-gold and silver twisted together.

Omre's mouth fell open. "But all his crimes—"

"—are nothing compared to your plan to take over my throne, Cousin Omre."

"I..." Omre stuttered to a standstill. A petite silver dragon landed beside him, growling and shooting tendrils of flame across the distance between them. It stopped short of where Omre stood, but he faltered backwards anyway.

"Jareth, we should have stepped in centuries ago before it got to this point," Aviis apologised. "But we seek your forgiveness by offering you your independence as a free state and pardoning you of any crimes Navas have deemed fit to charge you with."

It couldn't be that easy, could it? But then he looked around at all the dead bodies and felt a price was paid to stand here and hear this from his cousin. Not to mention Sarah's whole family, her family home, her relationships, her baby, her brother and her willingness and choice to even reside Underground were all taken from her in pursuit of this end. It hadn't been easy at all.

And Sarah had to marry someone that she didn't— he glanced towards his wife who was staring at him with such intensity that his heart froze— love.

"Do you accept?" Aviis asked.

"What do you expect of us in return?" Sarah asked, sliding off the unicorn's back.

"Nothing, Hi'Live," Aviis acknowledged her for the first time, shocking Jareth as he bowed low to her. "You have done enough by breaking the curse for both the fae and the Council of Mythical Creatures."

"How did she do that?" Omre yelled.

"She released all the stolen pearls," Aviis answered, gesturing around to the myriad of beings around them.

"They were our stolen pearls," Nudalun growled. "They belonged to Navas."

Sarah moved to stand beside Jareth. "They were stolen tears from everyone you see here."

"Interfering mortal."

"Yes, I am so terrible," Sarah said, laughing. "I saved the entire fae race by allowing them to have babies again without having to steal from Aboveground. When very few of you have shown me that you even deserve that. You should have remained cursed with being barren for the rest of your days. Unfortunately, to save these beautiful creatures, I had to also prevent your infernal race from dying out."

"You dare speak like that when in the presence of the High King and when you supposedly married a fae too?" Nudalun looked with disdain at Sarah.

"I saved your arse," Sarah replied, nonplussed. "You're welcome."

"You upstart little—"

"All of this for some pearls," Sarah said with equal animosity.

"You still do not understand the power they give you, do you?" Nudalun laughed. "The power of the creature that gave them to you. You're a fool if you refuse to harness that power."

"Interesting, but I am still not swayed," Sarah said, shrugging.

"Omre and Nudalun, I will see you in court," Aviis interjected. The two royals looked outraged.

"For what?" Omre spat. "You consented to our petition."

"I did," Aviis agreed. "Right up until you broke it by warring early and refusing to end the war even after Queen Sarah broke the curse."

"She is not a Queen," Nudalun hissed.

"She is," Aviis retorted. "She married Jareth, but long before that Lord Briyash informed me that the Labyrinth chose her when you had kidnapped and tortured King Jareth. The Goblin King and Queen are not roles that can be assigned to a soul by another fae. Only the Labyrinth can select its ruler."

"Our father sent him—"

"Yes, and by chance was he the one destined to be King," Aviis said in a bored tone. "Guards take these two back to the Palace."

Two of Aviis' burly guards dragged the two Navastians to their feet. They kicked and screamed but there was no chance of overpowering the guards. Another guard went and cut the fake Sarah free. Once her gag was removed the similarities faded before their eyes. Jareth sucked air through his teeth as the girl left with the guard. He turned back to his wife to see Sarah still staring the High King down.

"I have another request," she said, authoritatively. "Sevlydi and his lover, Rica, are pardoned of their crime of loving one another." Sarah faced the High King boldly. Jareth's heart swelled with pride as she took on the challenge of confronting the High King.

"Of course," he said with a shallow bow. "I believe you will be wanting your brother's relatives to be freed too."

"Yes please."

"There will be a lot of work to clean up this entire mess," Aviis directed this to Jareth. "We will send aid to ensure you can bury all the bodies. I will do my best to make the severance official between you and Navas."

"Thank you." Jareth nodded at his cousin.

"We should never have let Navas have such free reign," Aviis said with a regretful sigh. "However, you have proven you are not your father's son, Jareth. For that, you should be proud."

"Thank you, Aviis."

"The final thing we have to organise will be an official coronation for your beautiful wife," Aviis declared.

"She is already officially crowned," Jareth clarified.

"Yes, but we need to celebrate her and she needs to be seen by the other monarchs to solidify her reign," Aviis stipulated. "We will hold a parade in her honour as we do for all monarchs."

"I never had a parade in my honour," Jareth pointed out.

"You are also not Hi'Live, the curse breaker," Aviis teased.

Jareth spoke to his cousin for a few more minutes before he took his leave. Jareth was suddenly reminded about his wounded shoulder and his gammy leg when the adrenaline of war started wearing thin. He was left alone in the circle with Sarah who was watching him with that intense look he had never seen her wear before. He watched as she patted the unicorn on her shoulder and the unicorn nuzzled into her hair in return.

Slowly, the creatures all disbanded and they could see the battle-weary soldiers limping off the field to return to their homes or the medic tent. Jareth watched for a few moments to observe the fallen that still lay scattered across the sandy expanse. Then he exhaled as he collapsed onto his knees. Sarah was kneeling at his side in an instant.

"Jareth?"

"Sarah," he cried as he buried his head into her shoulder. "You beautiful darling thing. You did it."

"I did what?"

"Broke the curse, ended the war and saved us all," he choked out his words. Emotion flowed strongly through him as he held his wife in his arms once more.

"You're hurt, Jareth," Sarah reminded him. "We need to get you to the medic."

Magical exhaustion was wearing him down as well. "Does Sevlydi live?"

"I believe so," Sarah comforted.

"Forsythia saved me," Jareth informed her. He explained how if she hadn't warned him about the trap, that he would have ended up dead by rushing in to save Sarah. "Knowing it was a trick slowed me down before I did something foolish to save you. And oh, what sweet relief it is to live to see you again, my love."

"Thank the bogs you are still alive, Jareth," Sarah whispered in return.

"Why?" Jareth teased. "So you can kill me yourself?"

"No, you twit," Sarah cupped his cheek and kissed him on the lips. "To tell you something I should have told you a long time ago."

"That you think I am devilishly handsome?"

"No!" Sarah swatted playfully at his uninjured arm. "That my moonstone matches yours exactly."

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I have finished writing so I can now focus on editing alone. Which means that you will probably be able to read the entire story by the end of next week. I can not believe it. Next chapter is LOOOOONNNGGGG though. Haha.
> 
> If there are things that you are still waiting for answers about, shoot me a message. Chances are the loose end has been tied up in the epilogue, but in case it hasn't it would be handy to know if I have missed anything LOL. 
> 
> So Sarah has finally admitted the shape of her moonstone! Yipee. 
> 
> Also, I immensely dislike war scenes, so this was HARD. It has taken me weeks to write. So please let me know if I did OK with it. I will never do it again haha. 
> 
> Thank you, readers. :D 


	27. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: LEMONS+ (Some exposition first but lemons after - eat your dinner before your sweets :P )

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

There was meeting after meeting following the battle. Injured people to visit, dead people to bury and mourn, contracts and trade agreements to change due to independence. Then they had to consult with the unicorn as to any requirements the council may have concerning the Goblin Kingdom now being their sanctuary. It was never-ending.

The most important meeting was on the third day with Briyash. They were secluded in the study where they learnt that Sevlydi knew parts of the pearl prophecy but couldn't let Jareth or Sarah know because they had to be able to marry and travel to the moonstone caves themselves to fulfil that part of the prophecy without their motives being corrupted. It was an ancient oracular magic that even Jareth could not fully explain.

It bled down to the pearl initiating her marriage to Jareth. Once they were married as it was foretold, Sarah started manifesting the magic that Labyrinth had bequeathed her. Having that magic allowed her to go Aboveground during a wish. And then because she released the wished-away child to a human family, instead of a fae family, it fulfilled a proponent of the curse. The other parts being the destruction of the book and her wilful return of the pearl to demonstrate the purity of her intentions.

It still didn't make sense to Sarah how it all worked, but Briyash patiently explained over afternoon tea, that when the fae hunted the Council and stole their tears, the Council cursed them with infertility. Once they had started going extinct, they had encapsulated their souls into the pearls.

The fae, struggling to have children due to the curse, would steal them from the goblins and raise them as their own. Until a previous Goblin King made it fairer by creating the Labyrinth to allow those worthy to win their child back. And that meant that the trade of Stolen Pearl children would be, at least, more regulated.

The Council had concocted an escape clause so that their spirits would once again take their corporeal form: the Pearl Prophecy. A worthy challenger would win their child back and have the added boon of being the Goblin Queen to thus be able to retrieve the last wished-away baby designated by the red book. Destroying the red book destroyed the magic tying the wished-aways to the fae. Children could still be wished away, as they always have been, but the fae could not claim them.

Sarah had wondered how the curse of infertility was linked so closely to the return of the Council.

Briyash replaced his teacup in the saucer and cleared his throat. "Mythical creatures are the fuel of mortal dreams. And without them, dreams comprising elements of the Underground started dwindling. Fewer children were wished away because fewer people dreamed and believed in magic. The fae-folk were starting to lose their numbers."

"So the council was smart? Sarah queried. "They cursed them with infertility but also slowly started to take away their other means of acquiring children."

"Exactly, yes," Briyash readily replied. "The Council wanted to prove to the fae that their relationship should be symbiotic and not parasitic."

"So they created the curse, but also the means to break it using their own fae magic against them!"

"The fewer children that were born, the more in peril the fae became," Briyash stroked his beard in contemplation.

"That's why my father hangs on to this realm, and won't pass into the realm of the dead," Jareth explained. "Not enough heirs with only Nudalun having two children."

"And that's why the Council of Mythical Creatures used the Labyrinth to break the curse," Briyash clarified further. "Not for the sake of the fae, but the Council's sake. They ensured that one way or another the fae-folk would diminish through the lack of natural-born children and if that didn't happen fast enough, through the lack of Stolen Pearls. This is where you come in. The Red Book was enchanted to find one that was pure of heart and noble to break the curse. It found you, Queen Sarah."

"The Labyrinth was complicit," Jareth said, rubbing his chin. "But only because it was trying to find Sarah?"

"Precisely," Briyash said, clapping his hands. "The Labyrinth had to take children. It couldn't help it, but every time it took a child or a runner, it would assess its worth. Eventually, it found a runner who was worthy because she became the Champion. So you see, the Unicorn gifted the Pearl to you, Jareth, to find Sarah. Sarah Hi'Live who also returned the pearl and completed the spell that had been placed upon it."

"And Sarah had to marry me to be able to manifest her magic, to be able to travel Aboveground and claim the child," Jareth said. "If she didn't marry me, then she would never have enough power to actually travel through the veil when a wish was made. So the prophecy was needed to ensure that I would marry the Champion."

"That still doesn't explain why I had to be the one to do it, and not Jareth by himself," Sarah intercepted. "Like he could have broken the curse without any prophecy."

"Sarah, you know what I am," Jareth addressed her. "You know that I am my father's son. I would not have been compassionate enough to stop the trade. As much as I wanted to end it, my motivation was not rooted in genuine kindness."

"His Majesty is right," Briyash agreed, nodding his head. "His temperament would not have allowed such a weakness as compassion but—"

"But if it wasn't for what you made me," Jareth finished, fixing a meaningful stare on to Sarah's face.

"What do you mean?"

"Love, Your Majesty," Briyash answered for him. "Your moonstones were a matching pair, were they not?"

Sarah flushed red. "Yes."

"It is incredibly rare for the fae to visit the Moonstone Caves," Briyash supplied. "So rare it has been a few centuries since the last time. Love is not a fae mechanism."

"But they frequent the pearl cave because they choose power over love," Jareth clarified. "If I hadn't have seen the love you showed for Toby, I would have continued thinking mortals didn't deserve to have their children any more than the fae did."

"So I was chosen because—"

"—Of your capacity to love, yes," Jareth said, with a wan smile. "Something you taught me and I couldn't learn by myself."

"And now that the Mythical Creatures exist again, what function will your—our Labyrinth serve?"

"Any wished away children will once again be able to be adopted by humans, but the Elfish Council feel that with no book, and the goblins under control, they would be far and few between. _Our_ Labyrinth is a test and there will always be those that need testing."

"And how is it that Sevyldi came to know about the part of the prophecy?"

"Things weren't going to plan," Briyash resumed. "Time was running out and Navas was trying to thwart the Prophecy so they could control the Labyrinth, take its power and steal more children, and perhaps they wanted the Pearl caves to themselves too. And what's more, you had arrived two years previous and that cut into the time The King had to court you. Instead, King Jareth chose to go down an unorthodox route and more time was lost to us. Sevlydi was informed so that someone close to both of you could make you aware of the urgency without divulging and therefore breaking the Ancient Oracular magic."

Jareth cleared his throat and shifted in his seat. "You did the carving."

Sarah recalled finding the carving in the tree of the owl, the pearl and the figure— "the figure was me."

"Yes, I did the carving," Briyash admitted. "The fae-folk love symbology. I hoped it would hurry him down the right path and not the one he had committed himself to."

"You mean, of course, my deceiving Sarah into thinking Terry was a genuine person," Jareth inferred, his eyes narrowing.

"I meant no disrespect."

"And what if our moonstones didn't match? Wouldn't this all be for nothing?" Sarah cut in.

"I thought you didn't work in hypotheticals, Sarah?" Jareth said sharply.

"I don't, but this whole thing seems twisty and turny when the fae could have just _not_ stolen all those pearls," Sarah said, crossing her arms defensively. She had acknowledged that her pearl was the same size and shape, but with everything going on post-war and their own healing, they hadn't spent much time together. Her vulnerability had her slightly on edge.

"Fae are power-hungry and given the chance, they would steal them all again to their own detriment," Briyash said sadly. "But the Council has received sanctuary now so you will not let that happen. You have claimed your independence from Navas, which is your boon for breaking the curse and setting the council free."

"What happens naturally with the pearls they cry?" Sarah had never thought to ask this question.

"They create new life, Your Majesty," Briyash answered solemnly. "The Council of Mythical creatures are not cruel. But they had their means of having offspring stripped away from them, so they did the same to the fae."

"Except, they gave the fae a get-out-of-jail-free card," Sarah mused. At their blank stares, she clarified, "the Council were generous to offer a way to break their infertility curse. Something the Council was never given in return."

"Until now," Briyash whispered, gesturing softly to Sarah.

They chatted for another half an hour before Briyash took his leave. Sarah finished the cold dregs of her tea and then looked to Jareth who sat deep in thought across from her.

"Jareth?"

"Yes, precious?"

"Are you happy?"

Jareth's eyes blazed as he contemplated that question. "Sarah? Do you believe me to be unhappy?"

"We've barely talked," Sarah said, swallowing her insecurities. "Not since the end of the war."

"We have been busy," Jareth answered, briskly. "I have been recovering from various injuries."

Sarah nodded. "Of course."

Though Jareth had his shoulder wound healed, he, unfortunately, had to rely on his cane once more because his ankle had been ripped back open. When they weren't both working to set the Kingdom to rights, they were exhausted and fell asleep straight away for the past three nights. Sarah understood, but when not so much as a kiss (aside from the odd chaste variety) had occurred between them since she had admitted her feelings, albeit indirectly, it confirmed her worst unspoken fear: once she told Jareth her feelings, he would stop feeling them for her.

"It's been a hectic time for all of us." She gritted her teeth against the wave of uneasiness washing over her that she was so used to living with when married to Mark. Jareth wasn't Mark, and it was perfectly reasonable to be tired and busy directly after a war. She began to doubt her own mind on the issue — beginning to think that she was being selfish to want some attention. As quick as these thoughts appeared, she snapped out of them. Sarah refused to live a life where she was fighting for constant reassurance and inflicted with self-doubt. After all, Jareth had spoken to Briyash about how he loved her. He had to still love her despite his insouciance.

Jareth watched her for a few moments before striding over to her. He knelt in front of her like he had so many times before. He placed his hands on her knees, ghosting his thumbs across the fine material of her dress.

"Precious thing, have I been neglecting you?" he asked, in a sultry voice. He pushed her legs open gently running his gloved hands along her inner thighs with the thin material of her skirt the only barrier. "I love you."

"Jareth—" Sarah rocked her hips forward and dug her hands into the armrests. Jareth abruptly took his hands off her and replaced them on her ankles. Slowly, sensually, he glided his hands up her legs under her skirts, lifting them up until her skin was exposed up to the apex of her thighs.

"Sarah, I love you," he murmured, pressing his lips against her inner thigh. The contact sent thrills through her veins and wetness to seep into her knickers. "I worship you, I adore you, I—"

"Sorry to interrupt," Sevlydi said, unapologetically, as he strolled into the room with a massive grin on his face. Sarah had never seen him so happy. His hair was perfectly plaited into a blonde braid and he wore a black circlet on his head. He wore deep black and gold robes and carried a swagger stick that he was joyfully swinging around. "I am going to go and pick Rica up now."

Jareth tugged Sarah's skirts down over her legs and scowled at his brother. "We will make sure that we will interrupt your reunion as much as possible, brother."

Sevlydi just laughed, then winked at Sarah. "Rica would enjoy that very much."

Jareth growled at his brother and turned back to Sarah. "Stop laughing, wife."

"Panic not, Jareth," Sevlydi interjected with a grin. "I plan on staying a few days with Rica at the chateau on the Galeci Peninsula. Your days of being interrupted— at least by me— will be far and few between."

Jareth stood up and moved to the window until Sevlydi left them alone. He turned to face Sarah with a stern look on his face. He growled and then stomped over to his desk. It seemed to be the end of any interaction between them.

She supposed that just because they both survived the war, they weren't going to live happily ever after with love and flowers and rainbows for the rest of their days without work and effort. She had a desire to make this marriage work more so than any preceding relationship. She stifled a yawn as she realised she just did not have the strength to break through Jareth's defences today. Perhaps, rather than take it personally, she had to give him time to mourn the dead and recover from his wounds.

"I am going to go and check on Toby," Sarah said, rising off her chair, her legs still wobbly from her earlier onset of desire.

Jareth wrinkled his nose and nodded. He waved a hand dismissively as he looked down at his paperwork on his desk. Sarah left silently, closing the door behind her softly.

* * *

Jareth was exhausted. The war had drained him, but then all the work he had to do afterwards was staggering. Sarah was snowed under too. He had tried to cover as much of her share as he could, to lessen her burden. He gritted his teeth at the thought that he only saw her in passing, in business or when they both collapsed in bed. Mealtimes, they were accompanied by Toby, Sevlydi and Nate who was training Toby in the role of ambassador. They were due to visit the Sprigett's on the next day to meet with Alicia who was also taking on the role.

His frustration with not having any time alone with Sarah especially after her tacit acknowledgement that she loved him, was seeping into his interactions with her. He could see the hurt that flitted across her face as he dismissed her just now. She had admitted that she had the same moonstone as him and while she still hadn't said she loved him explicitly, it was still a revelation that he absolutely relished. And he had repaid her by neglecting her for his job. It was unavoidable, yet a seedy feeling settled into the pit of his stomach.

He loved her so very much and had trusted her to allow him to put his energies into the priorities within the kingdom. But perhaps he had been wrong, and Sarah was feeling somewhat hurt by his withdrawn nature. He had promised himself he wouldn't pressure her into imparting too much more of her feelings after her moonstone revelation.

Perhaps he had gauged this incorrectly as well. Had he come off cold and aloof? She couldn't doubt that he loved her even now? She had been right when she suggested they needed to communicate better to make this work. He cursed, knowing that he still had to work to gain her trust, and not get complacent just because she had acknowledged her feelings.

After an hour of working, Jareth had had enough of his separation from Sarah. He closed his eyes and transported herself to where Sarah was. She was sitting in the library bent over her own paperwork, alone.

"Where is young Tobias?" he asked.

Sarah didn't even look up. "He is with Nate."

"Sarah?" Jareth asked tentatively.

"Jareth?" He watched her shuffle a few papers and continue to pour over them.

He sighed as he took a seat opposite her, and crooked his leg over the armrest. "Sarah, would you like to go on a honeymoon?"

Sarah finally looked up, confusion marring her features. "A honeymoon?"

"We can't go far or for very long, but I was thinking of a vineyard within the Goblin Kingdom. There is one that is a particular favourite of mine. Yet, I have never had the pleasure of taking a paramour there. I have preferred to go to that one alone, but would love to share it with you."

Sarah chewed her lip. "But a honeymoon, Jareth?"

"Is that not a usual custom of yours where you resided?"

"Yes, for the most part," Sarah said, shifting in her seat.

"We have a lot of work to do," Jareth continued. "We can't go for long, but it would be nice to get away just the two of us, even just for a night or two."

"We are swamped," Sarah agreed.

"Just imagine watching the sunset with rolling hills surrounding us," Jareth described. "Drinking the finest peach wine under a crochet blanket on the swing seat as we overlook the rows and rows of vines. Without nary a goblin nor a brother nor an ex-husband to interrupt us."

"Sounds— nice, but can we really afford to take the time off?"

"Grygiel can hold things together for now," Jareth swung his legs back onto the ground. "If anything major crops up, the goblins have permission to recall us. But we will work better if we have some respite, Sarah. After everything we have experienced, our people deserve to have monarchs that are productive and lucid and not enervated."

"So we could take turns," Sarah suggested.

"I want to go with you," Jareth said with a voice that sounded hard even to his own ears.

"Do you?"

"Bog damn it, Sarah," Jareth swore. "What is the matter?"

"We have responsibilities and we can't just go off galavanting off into the sunset," Sarah replied with arched brows. She was cutting him off again, he could feel it. He'd allowed their duties to put distance between them. He cursed his siblings and his father for the war they started and the mess they had to clean up.

"Yes, and they will still be there when we get back," Jareth half growled. "We still have months of your magical training ahead of us and probably months of clean up from the war. Yet, you more or less _just_ admitted you love me and we have barely had a chance to tip our hats at each other, let alone bask in each other's extraordinariness."

"Jareth," Sarah sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. A mannerism he wholeheartedly related to. Except not when it was directed at him. "We can't put ourselves before the entire Kingdom."

"We've done nothing but put the Kingdom before ourselves."

"But what if —?"

Jareth practically leapt across the table to crouch by her side. He gripped the arm of her chair until his knuckles blanched. "We won't be leaving the Goblin Kingdom. We can travel back in a trice if we had to. Please, trust me, Sarah."

Eventually, she nodded, placing her hands on top of Jareth's. "I will come with you, but promise me that if we are needed, we can leave."

Jareth grinned. "Oh, my precious. You taking your role so seriously makes me love you all the more. I promise. I would not let my kingdom fall to wrack and ruin just as I won't let you wear yourself out."

"So considerate, Jareth." She took her hands away to push her hair out of her face.

"Don't think that I wasn't aware of your presence when I was recovering from my war wounds. I knew you tried to replace the Healer on several occasions. And you still carried on with all your regular duties, plus some of mine in addition to all the new ones the war has created. You need a break, love."

He moved her hands down to her lap and then cradled her face in his hands. "Remember that I would move the stars for you, and I am sure in time you would do the same for me, but I would not have you shine so brightly that you burn out, my love."

Jareth kissed her then. The first time their lips had met in days. It had been painful to be deprived of such luscious lips against his own; such a sweet-tasting tongue sliding against his. But more so that he had not shared any intimate moment with her. He would make it up to her if she would agree to come to the vineyard with him.

"Come with me, my love," he said into her mouth. "Come with me to Fael Unarith."

"OK," Sarah answered, pulling him back against her lips.

* * *

Sevlydi had originally planned on travelling to Navas escorted by the High King. But Aviis had suggested he would visit Navas himself and retrieve Rica for his own safety. Sevlydi had agreed so now he was waiting in a chateau on the Galeci Peninsula.

Galeci was all sunshine and sea, and twisting grapevines.

A wizard tower was the main feature of this Goblin Kingdom village on the Eastern Coast. It had fallen into disuse with the growth of the Labyrinth. Historically, the Wizard Tower would have been the centre point for magic reserves. Now a quaint town had popped up around the crumbling ruins of the tower.

Sevlydi was dressed in Rica's favourite colour, gowns of flowing yellow like spun gold. No longer needing to wear the Goblin Kingdom's official robing, he had hastily discarded the black and golds for this more simple attire. Simple, but form-fitting so Rica could embrace him in his full glory. His cock twitched at the thought of his lover.

He paced impatiently across the marble floor of the living space. He couldn't wait to have Rica in his arms again after so long. They had all been so consumed with Sarah and Jareth that it was barely any consideration for him. Sevlydi bared his teeth. He wasn't a selfless creature, and though he didn't want Jareth's unhappiness, it had felt like his wedded bliss had come at his own expense. Not that he regretted hiding Rica away for all that time to save his life. He missed him, but he'd rather he was alive and absent than captured.

However, the result had been the same. He still ended up captured, and if they had lost this war, Navas would have executed Rica just to add salt to the wound. He had been incredibly hard on his new sister-in-law, despite her not knowing the stakes. He was sure Sarah would grow in love with his brother, so he couldn't feel too much guilt over pressuring them to marry.

He stalked over to the window to look down the long curving driveway that still remained empty. Oh, how he hoped Aviis would find him and he wasn't too hurt. He loved Rica. Loved with a purity that was mostly unknown among the pure fae. He thanked the Bogs daily that his ancestor was a mortal. There was nothing quite so intoxicating as mortal-love. Rica, not being a High or Royal fae, was basically a mongrel of mixed heritage—a cry to the days when mortals were kidnapped and fucked frequently by the fae for their fertility. Of course, with fewer dreamers Aboveground, that had become an activity that was ventured only but seldomly, and indeed, incredibly frowned upon in today's society. Until Sarah.

The purer the fae the better, as power became more sought after than love or children. Hence, why the ruling class were mostly all pure fae. Until Jareth was born at any rate.

A noise roused him from his reflections. It was the sound of wooden wheels grating and crunching against loose pebbles.

Aviis didn't stay very long after he had escorted Rica, for which he was grateful. Rica and Sevlydi could barely tear their eyes from each other as soon as they had walked inside. As soon as Aviis had left with their heartfelt thanks, Rica had bounded up to Sevlydi and embraced him.

It wasn't much longer until they hastened to remove each other's clothing. Once they were naked, Sevlydi kissed Rica, pouring all his anguish of their separation and love into his kiss.

"I am so sorry, Rica," Sevlydi crooned, almost breathless as he fondled Rica's balls. They were now kneeling in each other's arms upon the shaggy rug, offering scant protection from the cold, hard marble floor. Sevlydi was too desperate to transport them to the bedroom. Rica's magic wasn't strong enough to transport them both, especially after having been weakened during his prison stay.

"Oh, my prince, you don't have to be sorry," Rica gushed into Sevlydi's mouth. "You waited for me."

"Always!" Sevlydi gasped as Rica ran his hand along the length of his cock. "I have missed you so much."

"I missed you," Rica replied. "I missed your cock in my arse. Stop talking and fuck me, Your Highness."

Sevlydi obeyed, flipping Rica over he continued to fondle Rica's erection as he rubbed his own against the cleft of his lover's arse. "I will fuck you, Rica De Škriatok."

"That's...not my...name," Rica panted.

"It will be once you marry me," Sevlydi said, inserting his fingertip into the anus of the other man while still caressing his penis. Rica groaned in response. After a few moments of working his finger into the hole, he added a second then a third, all while Rica grunted and moaned and rocked back and forth on his hands and knees.

"I am ready, Your Highness," Rica said, digging his hands deep into the shag carpet, after Sevlydi had applied lube up and down his own length.

"Marry me," Sevlydi cried as he eased his cock into Rica.

"Yes! Yes!" Rica cried in response. Sevlydi felt Rica's muscles tightening around his cock. He nearly wept with joy as he felt his balls hit Rica's arse, and he was completely enveloped. He eased back out and then started thrusting in and out, riding his absentee lover like it was the first and last time he ever would do it. Sevlydi wept into Rica's hair as he made love to him. He kissed his shoulder blades and soaked up the scent of the man of his dreams.

After riding him slowly for a while, he reached around and started jerking Rica's throbbing cock at the same pace. He wanted Rica to just enjoy the pleasure for a change. He usually got Rica to see to his own needs as he fucked him from behind. He may even be magnanimous and let Rica have a go at riding him, something that he had so far been unwilling to let happen. Love can make one generous.

"Faster," Rica cried, so he obeyed, and picked up the pace, ploughing into his lover as he watched themselves in the nearby mirror. Seeing the look of anguished desire on Rica's face set him off and two more thrusts became his undoing, spurting loudly and violently into his lover, while he felt the trickle of his lover's come flowing over his hand at the same time. "Yes! Your Highness!"

They both collapsed in a sweaty heap upon the shag carpet.

"Did you really propose to me?" Rica asked in wonder, after a few minutes of just breathing.

"I did, and you accepted," Sevlydi pushed Rica's hair out his face to kiss him. "We are our own separate Kingdom now, no longer under Navas rule. So I am sure we don't have to deal with the official engagement process malarky. Jareth will waive all that so we can just marry."

"It must be good to be second-in-line to the King," Rica muttered.

"It feels good to be inside you again," Sevlydi, waved his hand dismissively. "When you're ready, you can have a turn coming inside of me."

"You must have truly missed me, Your Highness," Rica pushed himself up to rest on his elbow, cradling his head in his hand. "I definitely won't say no."

"If I have learnt anything from watching my brother, is that love is a fragile thing," Sevlydi mused. "And it should not be taken for granted. I don't want to take you for granted. If you enjoy coming in me, let me know, and we can always do it again."

"How bounteous of you," Rica said, sealing his lips over Sevlydi's in a warm kiss.

* * *

Fael Unarith was in the North of the Goblin Kingdom. Various small towns were scattered around the border of the vineyard, but it was large enough that it felt like it was isolated. The border was marked by a circle of peach trees. It didn't escape Sarah's notice that she was contained within the boundaries of thousands upon thousands of peaches.

The hills were rolling and as promised, the vineyard was picturesque. They had arrived in a courtyard surrounded by three walls blanketed with ivy. The pebbled ground was raked to perfection with nary a stone out of place. Large barrels were scattered tidily around the courtyard, complemented by large concrete vases with wild, yet tamed plants spilling over the sides. Large birds, similar to peacocks strutted around the area without any concern of the two figures watching them.

The fourth side opened up onto the view of the vineyard. Each line of vines ended with a rose bush of various colours, but uniform in size. Sarah stood, hands clutching her elbows as she took in the scenery.

"They are planted to help detect disease," Jareth explained when Sarah pointed them out. "They both get affected by the same diseases, but the roses will wither first so the viticulturist will know to treat the grapevines."

The wall directly opposite the vineyards had four wooden doors, currently, all closed but one. Out of this door came a human around Sarah's age. He was tall with auburn hair and a massive grin that was almost hidden by his bushy beard.

He bowed low. "Your Majesties."

"Ah, Craig," Jareth greeted the man. "Queen Sarah, this is Craig the Winemaker."

Craig, the Winemaker took them through the open door and gave them a small tour. Then he led them to a chalet that overlooked a small lake.

"This is all yours for however long you require it," Craig said, fiddling with the ends of his moustache.

The goblins who had been carrying their luggage placed it within the living space and then made themselves scarce. Sarah peered curiously around the room. It was elegant but cosy. They had their own private courtyard in a similar style with ivy-covered walls and a view of the sprawling vineyard set amidst the hills.

"On the other side of the hills is the Labyrinth," Jareth said at her shoulder. "We are very close, but far enough away to believe we are in a different Kingdom completely. Fael Unarith is the one place I can truly be alone and by myself."

"Except for right now," Sarah laughed.

"I have shared my bed with many partners, Sarah, but I have never brought anyone here," Jareth said, sternly. "Never."

"Well, it is beautiful," Sarah conceded, moving away from the door to inspect the bedroom. It was simple but comfortable. Sarah bit her lip as she imagined what the bed may or may not be used for later in the day. She spun on her heel to explore somewhere else when she came face to chest with Jareth.

"Ooff," she said, as she walked into him.

"Apologies, Precious," he said as his arms gripped her shoulders to steady her. "Running away from the bedroom so soon?"

"Not as fast as you're trying to run to it, Jareth," Sarah said, as she let him fold her into her hug.

"Let us take the tour of the Vineyard, partake in some wine tasting and then eat our evening meal, hmmm?" Jareth's breath caressed her hair as he spoke. "I promise you the cuisine is exquisite here. The best in the Kingdom."

The food was indeed exquisite. After their tour and some wine tasting, they were seated in an ivy-covered courtyard overlooking the lake framed by manicured hedges. Their meal consisted of fine cheeses, slices of rich meat and artisan bread to dip in finely crafted oils. It was accompanied by a white peach salad composed of kale, endives, heirloom tomatoes, candied walnuts, caramelised stone fruits (of which peach was the main one) and white balsamic-yuzu vinaigrette.

It was a matter of trust that she allowed Jareth to provide forkfuls of the peach salad into her mouth. The sweet salad slid down easily and Jareth leaned in to kiss her lips, swiping his tongue over any residue left behind.

"First time having peach since my run," Sarah observed as she offered a forkful of her calamari to Jareth. He took it and grunted with appreciation.

"Thank you, for trusting me, Precious," he said, softly.

"I missed eating peach," she mused. "I was cut off from a whole world of peach related foodstuffs. Peach ice-cream, peach tea, peach wine…"

"I apologise, my love," Jareth said with a sigh.

"We have forever to make new peach related memories," Sarah replied, with a slight shrug.

"That is, if you choose to stay with me as your husband," Jareth said, prodding his meal with his fork.

"I don't have any choice, do I?"

"But you could always choose another mate."

Sarah wiped her mouth with a napkin. "And so could you."

"Sarah," Jareth said, clearing his throat. "Would you contemplate getting a bond-mark?"

"What's that?" Sarah asked, placing her napkin next to her plate.

"It's a rare bit of magic that allows me to always find you and you to always find me," Jareth explained.

"I thought that's what we had the moonstones for?"

"It would be, if you actually carried yours with you," Jareth said, accusation tinting his tone.

Sarah pulled her medallion out and flipped it over, showing him her moonstone imprinted underneath the sickle-shaped pendant. Jareth, in turn, did the same to his.

"Ever since the war, actually," Sarah said in defiance of his accusation.

"Thank you, Sarah," he said with a small smile. "The mark would be permanent and unremovable. It will also mean that we would be unable to give our hearts to other lovers. So you can see that the act of getting a bond mark is not very popular amongst the fae."

"So why would you want to do it?"

"My heart is yours."

"Yes, but hearts change," Sarah whispered.

"Mine won't."

"But mine might."

Jareth scrubbed his hand over his eyes. "Yes. I wouldn't want to restrict you. Forget I asked."

They ate in stilted silence for a few more minutes. The only sounds were the scrape and clink of their cutlery as they ate.

"Jareth?" Sarah prompted when the silence got too heavy to endure.

"Mmm?"

"I will think about it, ok?"

"You will?" Jareth looked up and stared into Sarah's eyes like it was the first time he had seen her eyes.

"I will," she said, patting his hand that rested on the tabletop.

"That's all I can ask, Precious. It's not an outright no, and so I can at least hope."

"It's a lot to ask right now, but be patient with me. I will get there."

"I trust you." Jareth, a bit perkier, took a sip of his wine and offered a taste to Sarah. "This one is the blueberry infused wine. What do you think?"

After their dessert, consisting of dark chocolate brownie, with salted caramel ice-cream, vanilla chantilly cream, chocolate shards and honeycomb, they walked back to their chalet to sit on the swing seat in their courtyard. Sarah was feeling sufficiently full after their degustation.

They watched the sunset in companionable silence. Jareth pulled the blanket closer around them as the night air seeped in. Sarah started chatting away about inconsequential things, like not having shaved her legs in three years, or not having been to the dentist.

Jareth assured her that magic could heal her teeth if necessary but with all the potions available to her, she shouldn't have concerns over her teeth at all. And as for having not shaved, Jareth offered to get her a razor if she wanted. Shaving hair was not a fae custom so not something he had considered while trying to make her comfortable. Sarah shrugged and told him it had been quite nice not having any expectations to shave her legs. Sarah bit her lip at the thought she potentially killed off any romance by discussing her teeth and her hairy legs. Jareth just laughed.

"I want to know all of you, and that includes any inane thoughts you may have," Jareth assured her. "They are interesting to me."

Though married, it was nice that he was also a friend with whom she could discuss trite, everyday things. "Just wait until I start feeling comfortable enough to discuss my monthly period with you."

"I look forward to the day you are comfortable enough to do so."

"Thankfully, Helena taught me how to make my own towels when I first stayed with them," Sarah giggled. "I can't imagine the mortification of having to ask you for help when I first came to stay in your castle."

"Why mortification?" Jareth questioned. "Do not most humans with wombs menstruate?"

"Yes."

"A perfectly human function should not be shameful."

"Perhaps from your fae perspective that does not identify with feelings of shame," Sarah retorted. "But while you are correct that it is not shameful in and of itself, we are degraded and taught to feel as such."

"There are some things I will never understand about humans, as there are probably things you will never understand about us."

"We will learn together."

"Indeed."

The lapsed back into companionable silence. Sarah rested her head on Jareth's shoulder as he pulled her tighter to his side.

"A sunset has never looked so beautiful," Jareth said, softly.

"It is a rather fine sunset," Sarah agreed.

"Only because the company is the finest in the universe," Jareth retorted, watching her, not the sunset.

Sarah elbowed him lightly. "You're going to miss it if you watch me and not the sun."

"I don't care."

Sarah turned to Jareth to see his face lit with the orange light of the sunset, his blonde hair almost transparent as the final rays burned the sky. She leaned in and kissed him wholeheartedly.

"You also owe me a kiss for having the same shaped moonstone as me," Jareth reminded her. Sarah laughed and planted a firm kiss on his lips. He didn't release her that easily though, and let the kiss linger for a while longer.

"Debt paid!"

"Sarah," Jareth murmured as he pulled away from her, running his fingers under the shoulder straps of her dress. "I want to make love to you."

He scooped her up in his arms and carried her inside, peppering her head with kisses as he moved. He took her into the bedroom and laid her down on the bed. Leaning above her, he just gazed into her face as he toyed with her hair. After a few moments, he closed the gap to kiss her. Sarah felt the electricity building her in veins as he kissed her leisurely, but sensuously.

"Sarah," he said her name like it was a prayer. He ran his hands down her sides as she gripped his shoulders. He pulled her up into a sitting position and started to remove her clothing. Piece by piece, all while gazing at her. Her heart was in her throat and if she didn't say something soon, she would burst. The feelings that were bubbling under the surface as he undressed her had her near euphoria.

"Jareth," she murmured as she ran her hands down his pale chest. "I —"

He stopped untying her dress, to tip her face back by her chin with his finger. "Yes, my love?"

Faced with his earnest expression, she couldn't say what she wanted to. Instead, she leaned forward and planted a kiss on his lips, searching and pressing for more from him. He grunted into her lips and continued divulging her of her attire. Sarah managed to slide his shirt down his back and slide her hands down the back of his trousers to cup his bum. He grunted again as she squeezed.

She gently pushed him back so she could strip him of his pants, now that she was all but naked except for her shift. Jareth quickly removed that over her head and they both sat there naked, soaking each other in. Sarah could never tire of watching his naked body, with the fine dusting of hair over his pale skin. His taut stomach, hiding deceptively strong muscles. His sinewy legs and arms that often held and supported her. But most of all his eyes and of course his smile. It could be both dangerous and captivating. But Sarah had seen his real smile. His secret smile. The one he had just for her, full of warmth and adoration.

"You are beautiful," Jareth mumbled, as he started kissing her arms up to her shoulders, his hand tracing the same route on the opposite side. They lay back down, stroking and kissing each other. Sarah made a small noise at the feel of the cool silk on her back, but she was soon oblivious to that as Jareth licked and nipped at her tender, kiss-bruised lips.

Everything was slower than their usual pace; everything just a little bit sweeter. Their touching, their kisses, their long meaningful stares — all occupying their own space and time. Jareth still managed to arouse her despite how measured each move was. She was in no hurry to slake her desire, choosing to enjoy their mutual deliberation.

It was only when Jareth moved to lick and nip at her breasts that a low moan escaped her. She could feel his erection throbbing against her hip, but he was in no hurry to see to his needs either. Sarah was uncertain she had ever had such an unrushed, purposeful sexual experience before.

Jareth left her breasts to kiss her mouth. It was short but sweet and as he pulled away he rubbed his nose against hers.

"I love you, my Sarah," he whispered, closing his eyes. "I want to remember every second of this."

Sarah swallowed as she felt a rush of emotions. Something that had been largely lacking when they had fucked against the wall. She didn't want release so much as she just wanted him to bury himself inside her and hold her tight. She had never felt this need so strongly in her life.

"Jareth, I need you inside me," was all she managed to utter.

"All in good time, my love."

"No, you misunderstand me," Sarah corrected, breathing deeply. "I want you inside of me not just to fuck me. I want you to hold me, love me — make love to me."

Jareth made a strangled noise before he kissed her vigorously. He caught himself after a few moments and resumed at a more languid pace.

"Sarah, oh my Sarah," he said into her mouth. "You are everything to me."

He pulled away, with regret in his eyes. He fashioned a crystal, flicked his wrist and produced a vial of blue liquid she had seen before. He consumed it with distaste before he leaned back in for a kiss. Sarah was surprised that no bitter tang lingered in his mouth and it was as sweet tasting as every kiss he had given her. But more so because it represented the sacrifice he was willing to make to love her. That vial contained his hopes and dreams of children, dashed for eternity. Sarah pushed away from his kiss to cup his face between her hands. She searched his eyes before she found the courage to speak.

"Jareth," she started. "I love you."

Sarah watched as emotion after emotion flitted across his face. It was more intense than when she had told him their moonstones matched because this was real. This was her confirming what he already knew. He broke into a smile before he buried his face into the crook of her neck, laughing.

"Sarah, oh my beautiful, loving, cruel, sweet Sarah," he cried into her neck as he shifted his weight above her. With one hand still supporting his weight, and his face in her neck and hair, he rubbed his fingers against her slick folds. Seeing how ready she was he buried his erection right into her centre with a cry. "I love you, precious."

Sarah arched her back as the feeling of fullness nearly overwhelmed her. Jareth kissed along her brow and down her nose, before placing a small kiss on her lips.

"This is better than any dream," he moaned softly without moving inside her. Sarah reached behind his neck and fingered his hair as they stared at each other. "Tell me again, Sarah. Tell me you love me."

"I love you," she said, assuredly.

"I love you," he said grinning. "So much."

He pushed away from her and Sarah whimpered from the loss as his erection left her nearly empty.

"Hush, Sarah," he whispered. "It is all yours." He inched his way back inside in agonising increments. Sarah arched her back yet again as he settled in her. He kissed her on the collarbone up to her ear. "I love you."

With every slow entry he made inside her, he would tell her he loved her, so with his every exit, she told him she loved him. The intense look on his face had her heart fit to burst. Even with their slowly undulating bodies, Sarah could feel the pressure start to rise. Her hands caressed his back down to his buttocks where she pushed them down deeper into her as she lifted her pelvis up to meet him. Sparks flew as they both groaned together, holding him deeply within her before he gradually pulled out again.

She wrapped her legs around his waist the next time he entered, so she could hold him there a bit longer. Jareth moaned from the strain of his ever decreasing control.

Sarah arched her back, exposing her neck. Jareth licked his way up to her jaw on the exposed flesh before he rocked his hips back and broke free of her legs around him. He grabbed her legs and lifted them over his shoulder and surged into her again. This new angle was deeper and caused Sarah to gasp from the shock of his cock delving so deep. Jareth caressed her face with his hands as he went back to work, still so slowly and sensually filling her.

When he deemed it time, he lowered one hand between their bodies and stuck his middle finger between her lips, rubbing at the bundle of nerves as he slowly eased in and out. Sarah let out a low moan as her muscles clamped tight around Jareth and then released in a convulsion of bliss and pleasure.

When she fell apart around him, he swallowed all her moans, before panting in her ear about how much he adored her. Despite how slowly he was riding her, she could feel a second orgasm building until they both shattered together. He cradled her in his arms as they caught their breath. His intense stare twisted her insides and sparked flames at the base of her spine.

"Tell me you love me, Sarah," Jareth repeated firmly, but softly. A dark glint of triumph shone in his eyes.

"I love you, Jareth," Sarah nuzzled his neck, inhaling his scent which was still enticing despite the sheen of sweat covering his body. Sarah groaned as Jareth pulled out of her and settled down beside her.

"I plan on taking you to heights you have never reached, my darling," Jareth whispered as he pulled her to rest against his chest. His heart was racing a mile a minute and she was sure hers was the same. Together, they drifted off to sleep, safe and secure in each other's embrace and love.

* * *

Jareth woke with a smile on his face. Sarah was still nestled into him and he gently squeezed her closer. She had told him she loved him. He had never experienced such pure joy. It was the most untainted, honest thing in his life and he was never letting it go. Nor Sarah. Now that he had her, body and soul, as his wife he would not part with her for anything.

As she stirred, she sought him out straight away, placing a kiss upon his breastbone.

"Hello," she said, shyly.

Jareth chuckled. "Hello, my love."

"Do you still love me?" Sarah asked with a sly grin.

"I do." He kissed her brow. "And you still love me. And we will love each other forever, Sarah."

"Forever!"

Jareth's heart soared with the love he saw deep in those green eyes of hers. It had been such a journey to get to this point. And it had been worth the wait. Despite his centuries of meaningless flings, last night had been the first time he had made love to someone.

"How are you feeling?" he asked, rubbing his thumb along her temple.

"Happy," she answered, with a smile. "Genuinely happy."

"I have waited so long to be the one that makes you smile," he said in return.

Sarah pushed herself up to sit facing him. "Jareth, I have an important question for you."

"Yes?" Jareth felt butterflies in his stomach at all the possible questions she may have.

"Will you marry me?"

Jareth laughed before he frowned. "We are married, my love."

"Yes, but neither of us chose to marry one another for love," she reasoned. "So will you marry me?"

"Yes, of course," he answered, grinning as he pulled her over him so she was straddling his waist. He wouldn't point out that he _had_ chosen to marry _her_.

A few hurried kisses later and Sarah was shortly riding his cock as she scraped her nails down his chest. This was faster and more furious than last night, but Jareth needed this just as much. The stronger feelings inside him needed an outlet too. Sarah must have felt the same as she fucked him harder, crying out the violence of her emotions.

After they had come together, he had carried Sarah to the bath, despite his wounded ankle. There they made love to each other again, slowly this time, enjoying the extra benefits of being nearly weightless in the water. They cleaned up and went out to the courtyard for breakfast. They took their time packing before they were due to leave. They had to go back to their responsibilities but at least this time, he was working with a wife that undoubtedly loved him.

* * *

The castle was working like a well-oiled machine when they arrived back home. Sarah felt like they should have stayed away longer. But that thought was fleeting because apparently, they had a guest.

"Majesties," Cookie cried when she saw them lounging in the throne room. "Someone to see you."

That, someone, was Jareth's mother, Lilan. Sarah had only seen in her dream-walking but she looked exactly the same. Jareth's jaw was tight and she could detect a tic as he glared at the woman who had birthed him.

"Mother," he said, magicking up his swagger stick. "What a...surprise."

"I imagine it is, my son," she said in a cool, crisp voice.

Jareth rolled his eyes. "I heard father passed into the lands of the dying. Too cowardly to face the music when having lost the war with his own sons."

"That's true," she said, indifferently. "He has passed."

"That's quite a mess for Nudalun and Omre to clean up," Jareth ground out.

"Their trial will not be pleasant," she simply said.

"Why are you here?"

"To meet the wife of my son," she answered, glancing at Sarah who sat stoically in her new throne that matched Jareth's exactly.

"Well, now you have, so you may leave."

"Jareth," Lilan admonished. "Rumour has it that you have found someone to love and who loves you in return."

"What of it?" Jareth tapped the top of his boot with the head of the swagger stick. "You wouldn't know love if you saw it."

"No, perhaps not the romantic kind of love." Lilan's mask slipped slightly to show a flash of regret. "But I am a mother who—"

"—who abandoned her two children to imprisonment and then banishment," Jareth interjected with a bored tone.

"I loved you," Lilac said calmly.

"Not enough!" Jareth placed his hand on top of Sarah's. "You have no idea what it means to love someone."

"I made a mistake out of fear and self-preservation," Lilan answered, truthfully. "I didn't think Effistod would actually banish you. I was not a good mother to you when it counted, but I had the potential to be a great mother for the amount of love I had for you and Sevlydi."

"You are lucky he is not here to see you," Jareth hissed.

"Introduce me to your wife, Jareth and then I will leave."

"Why didn't you go with Effistod into the land of the dead?" Jareth asked, ignoring her request.

"I am not ready," she offered simply.

"Why not?"

"I know I can never make things right between us, but I can at least try to make it better."

Jareth sniffed, flicked his fingers at his mother, and turned to Sarah. "This is my wife, Queen Sarah Hi'Live De Škriatok. She is the Queen of the Goblins in her own right."

Sarah gave an insusceptible nod to the former Queen of Navas. "Lilan."

Lilan frowned slightly at her lack of title but recovered with a swift curtsy. "Queen Sarah, it is an honour to meet the lady who could tie my son down."

"Mother, stop," Jareth commanded. "She hasn't tied me down anymore than you truly loved father."

Lilan stilled. "I...loved your father."

"If you did, then you are free to walk out of that door right now and never again enter my Kingdom," Jareth said, with a slight almost invisible snarl. Sarah admired how calm he was even in his anger. She could see the little tells of his inner rage but he still showed a composed front.

"I did not tie your son down," Sarah interjected, softly. "I was already Queen before I married him. I married Jareth to secure the throne and because he loved me, not to tie him down."

"I notice that you do not say you loved him," Lilan scoffed.

"I didn't marry him because I loved him, that's true," Sarah replied. Then turning to Jareth she added, "but I grew to love him and have fallen deeply in love with him since."

Lilan shifted, making her blonde hair sway elegantly in waves down her back. "I am part mortal and as such, I had always hoped that my son's embraced that part of me. I can not tell you how happy I am to hear that my son has found mortal-love when I could not."

"Both of your sons have found love, mother," Jareth reminded her.

"But he isn't in love with a mortal, Jareth," Lilan pointed out, with a harshness to her voice Sarah couldn't figure out. "Mortal love is more potent than anything a fae could offer. You have a treasure that no other fae can covet."

Jareth rolled his eyes. "So you have met her, so now what?"

"I seek sanctuary, Jareth."

"Why?"

"I fear Nudalun and Omre hold a grudge towards me because I would not help them in their plans to torture you," she admitted. "They wanted to know your weaknesses." She flicked her eyes toward Sarah. "They figured it all out without my help eventually, but they did not forgive me for dragging my heels. Now, Effistod has passed and I have no protection."

"You refused to aid them?" Jareth quirked a brow.

"Yes."

"Well, I have to say I am surprised," Jareth said, tapping his finger against his swagger stick. "I would have thought you would have sided with my half-siblings to save your own skin."

"Jareth," Lilan said with decreasing patience. "I can pay for my sanctuary."

"How?"

"The weakness that resides in the veil when you ripped it open after your father tried to trap you and Queen...Queen Sarah in the void"— she took a deep breath— "I can fix it."

"How?" Jareth asked sternly. Sarah baulked at the revelation that King Effistod had intentionally tried to stop her from coming back Underground. She tried to remain collected, but she found the urge to fidget too strong. Jareth casually rested his hand atop of hers in an effort to remind her of her station.

"I have no need for my magic any more, Jareth," she admitted. "I should have passed on with Effistod, but I wanted to make it right with you before I did that. To keep the veil from escaping I will patch it with every ounce of magical fibre I have within me until I am depleted. It should be enough."

"How did you know the veil was weakened?" Sarah asked.

"Effistod watched as you shattered it in your escape." Lilan flicked her blue eyes to meet Sarah's green ones. "He had planned to entrap the void as his weapon in the war, but the return of the magical creatures meant he was denied from doing so. Their magic was stronger than Effistod. He couldn't utilise the veil, so he let it consume him."

"Like the future-walking," Sarah whispered to Jareth, images of black fog devouring everything in its path scuttered before her eyes. Sarah glanced into Jareth's mismatched eyes to assure herself that they were whole and not empty sockets. His eyes managed to express concern and understanding as he looked back at her.

"We made the right decisions, Sarah," he whispered back. "It was a warning, not a threat. We avoided it. I am alive and I am with you."

Sarah's relief was palpable. As she saw no sign of the images in her head becoming reality. But how could they let Lilan sacrifice her entire magic stores? What would become of her?

"It is the least I can do," Lilan mumbled. "I sacrificed my sons so I may live, so I need to repay the debt and sacrifice my magic, my mana, my spirit, so you may live. You have so much to live for." Lilan's eyes darted back to Sarah. She garnered that was her way of giving her tacit approval for their marriage. Sarah nodded her acknowledgement and turned to her husband.

"I have to consult with the co-ruler," Jareth said aloud, rubbing his chin. "In the meantime, you may reside in a guest room."

"Thank you, Jareth."

"I could be cruel and demand that you refer to me as Your Majesty," Jareth ruminated.

"You could."

"I won't," Jareth said, "for now."

Sarah shifted in her throne.

"Something to say, my love?" Jareth asked, tapping his swagger stick against his thigh.

Sarah licked her lips and turned to Lilan. "I may not be a mother but I am a sister. I could never abandon my brother despite what dreams were offered to me. I will never understand how you could let your own sons be imprisoned and then sent away from their home. But in the end, you have done them both a favour. Both Jareth and Sevlydi have made the best of what they were given and more. Lilan, Jareth was offered a second chance and I would like to extend that to you. Bear that in mind while we deliberate."

Sarah rose from her throne and exited the room with Jareth following her lead.

* * *

Jareth and Sarah settled back into their routine of paperwork and putting their Kingdom back to rights. A few days had passed and they allowed Lilan to stay within the Kingdom but not the Castle for now. It was a compromise that suited both parties.

Eventually, they agreed to let Lilan patch the rift. Jareth was still wary of trusting her, but after he went down to the portal chamber and inspected the portal, he had concurred that something must be done.

Standing in front of the portal, they could see the black mist butting at the glass-like barrier. Jareth could see tendrils finer than what any mortal could detect leaching out of the shielding.

"Mother," Jareth addressed her without taking his eyes off the barrier. "You have the Goblin Kingdom's protection if you can heal this rift."

He went and stood with Sarah, holding her hand in his, as they watched Lilan place her hands against the glassy membrane. For what felt like hours, they watched as the black fog turned cloudy and gradually got clearer and clearer. When the fog was a mere transparent mist, Lilan collapsed to her knees.

He rushed to the side of his mother to see her pallid face covered in the sheen of sweat. Her breathing was laboured and any glamour she had utilised to conceal her true age was gone. Jareth placed his arms around his mother's thin frame and watched as she raised a shaky, wrinkled hand to push her now scraggly, grey hair out of her face. Harsh lines and wrinkles etched into her visage, changing the fae he had always known into something quite unrecognisable.

"I am quite without even a spark of magic, Jareth," she said through a thick wheeze.

"Someone fetch the healer," Jareth called before he corrected himself. "Someone go and inform Gilo that we are on our way." He scooped up his mother in his arms and walked out the portal chamber, with Sarah following, silently.

He didn't know if Sarah had noticed that he was now referring to their healer, by name, but he didn't mind if she hadn't. Sarah had taught him that sometimes kindness for kindness sake doesn't need an audience. The fae were slow to change so he did feel some inner pride in how quickly he was able to take the lessons on board to try and change his habits and behaviour. He didn't want to change to impress Sarah, but rather to be worthy of her. For while she had her faults, and had been particularly cruel to him over the years, she showed that empathy and kindness could win wars. Without her, the curse would never have been broken. Her anger at the cruelty of the fae had saved the fae from themselves. He was in awe of his courageous wife. And he strived to earn the love she had given him.

Jareth ensured that he showed Sarah how he felt at every opportunity, now that she was more _receptive_ of his love. Sometimes they were like horny teenagers fumbling with each other in alcoves between duties, but mostly they spent their nights making slow, sensual love to each other. It was a new experience despite his many centuries of living. Every time she said, "I love you," his heart soared, his stomach swooped and his soul danced. What a difference between all those years ago when he had been simply happy to not have to choose his wife, to now being able to hold her heart as she held his.

Jareth even had one of his dreams come true. He had decided to take Sarah on a date night as a break from their endless responsibilities. He took her to a hanging garden. A hanging garden floated above the Labyrinth with a pool at the centre so transparent you could see the maze sprawling out underneath it. Some of the most luscious plants and flowers enveloped the garden with fairy lights and candles illuminating the greenery. Sarah had been enamoured.

"Why haven't you shown me this before?" Sarah asked leaning back against his chest as he sat up against a tree, hand feeding her cheese and grapes.

"This was where I wanted to propose to you," he explained. "If I had been given the chance to woo you properly."

"You wanted to propose to me?"

"I did," he kissed her below the ear. "You would have said yes, and then we would have made love up here."

"Or I would have said no, and then left you alone to wank your misery away," Sarah said, grinning.

"While you went to do the same to try to drown out your regret," Jareth teased back. Then he paused. "Do you still have that crystal I gave you?"

"The voyeuristic one?" Sarah asked. "Yes."

"Hmmm," Jareth hummed. "We should make use of those again. I loved watching you take your own pleasure, Sarah."

Jareth bit back a laugh as Sarah squirmed at the memory of him masturbating to images of her. He was certain she could feel his reaction to their conversation digging into her back.

"Propose to me now," Sarah suggested, as she passed him a grape. "We are here now and it's romantic and candlelit." Sarah gestured at the floating pods with candles that hovered around the garden. "So it's the perfect opportunity."

"Sarah?" he started. "Will you marry me?"

"Nah," Sarah said shoving a handful of cheese into her mouth.

"Will you marry me?" Jareth asked again, through gritted teeth.

Sarah chewed thoughtfully on her cheese. "No."

"Sarah!" he said in the same tone he had used with her when she was fifteen. "Marry me!"

"Jareth!" Sarah replied, mimicking his tone. "No, I shall not."

"Sarah!" he growled, as he snaked his hands around her waist. "Marry me or you will not enjoy the consequences."

Sarah leant forward to take a sip of her wine. "I will not marry you."

Sarah suddenly spat out her wine as Jareth dug his fingers into her soft flesh to tickle her midsection. Sarah writhed and laughed as she sprawled onto her back to try and get away from him. Jareth straddled her and moved his hands up to her armpits.

"Relent!"

"No!" she said between laughs.

"Marry me!"

"Never!"

He pinned her hands behind her head and kissed her full lips, his hair tickling her face. She was delightful when she was playful. But more so when she was intentionally being defiant. Her body melted into his as he kissed the tension away.

"Marry me, Sarah," he said softly, his lips a hair's breadth away from her smooth lips.

"I will," she said, quietly as she closed her eyes and tugged his lips back to hers.

Jareth didn't waste any time making his fantasy come true, kissing and tracing every feature of hers as he buried himself deep within her warmth. As they lay spent in their mutual exertions, Jareth kissed her ring finger on her left hand before rolling back to gaze into her eyes. Sarah lifted her hand up to see a ring glittering on her finger.

"What's this?"

"Your mortal custom upon getting engaged is to present a ring to the object of your love, is it not?"

"Yes, but we are already married." Sarah shifted her hand to catch the different angles in the light. He had a replica of their pearl inset in the middle with miniature moonstone replicas either side of the centrepiece. "Not all cultures have engagement rings or even rings."

"But I would like something to represent the fact that you wanted to marry me and not just because you had to save your own bacon." Jareth kissed her jaw.

"I have nothing for you," she said, still admiring her ring.

"We can visit the jewellers in the morning," he promised. "There is always the bond-mark that you could get."

"But that may be many years away," Sarah said, lowering her hand to rest on top of his.

"I am a patient man," Jareth kissed her brow. "I don't expect anything from you now that you have given me the world with your love."

"You are so sappy, Jareth."

"Only with you, my love," he said stroking her brow. "Do not ever let the goblins know about my soft side."

"We can't let our subjects know you have a soft heart underneath all that tight clothing and glitter," Sarah teased.

"I can assure you that is the only thing that is soft underneath my tight clothing," Jareth laughed. "I swear to the Bogs, that living with you is like walking around with a permanent hard-on."

"Well, we will have to remedy that then," Sarah said leaning over to kiss him.

* * *

They eventually got a reprieve. The Kingdom was officially separated from Navas and Jareth wasted no time in making a decree that anyone could marry who they wanted regardless of their ability to have children or not.

Sevlydi wrote a letter informing the two monarchs that he was engaged to Rica. Jareth and Sarah celebrated their divorce from their parent Kingdom, as well as their brother's engagement with his subjects at one of the many inns in the Goblin City. The city had been in celebration mode since the end of the war. The goblins were ecstatic as they could be for simple-minded creatures, that they would no longer be captured and sold into slavery by ruthless fae under the guise of trade and Navastian economics.

"Good riddance to the colonisers," Jareth cheered at a group of inebriated goblins who cheered back in return. Sarah had never seen Jareth full of such bonhomie. He wasn't even drunk.

He linked arms with her, singing as they went back to the castle. Sarah couldn't help but giggle at this carefree side of him. She joined in with the last few verses. Jareth finished singing, and he twirled her around before he lifted her up in the air. He kissed her on the nose on the descent.

"My bringer of victory," he said in hushed tones against her neck. Sarah shivered from the sensation of his warm lips against her flushed skin. Her clit throbbed at his proximity. The next second he had transported her to his bedroom. They stripped each other using magic and he lifted her up into their bed, where he kissed her all over. Hot open-mouthed kisses at her neck turned into sucking her peaked nipples into his mouth. Hot tantalising kisses down her stomach turned into nips and licks around her centre.

Sarah shuddered and groaned as his tongue entered her and swirled over her folds. She heard herself get louder as he inserted his finger, then two inside her. He pumped the fingers in and out, expertly hitting the right spot each time. Sarah's legs were frantically shaking, and she almost clamped his head between her thighs with the effort to stop them shaking.

"Don't make me tie your legs down, Sarah," he rebuked.

Sarah whimpered from the deprivation of his tongue, though his fingers were still working inside her. Her whimper was also due to the thought of being tied up while Jareth paid her attention. Better yet, tying him up and having full control over what she did to him. She almost came at the thought. Jareth must have sensed it because his fingers ceased immediately.

"Not yet, Precious,' he growled. After a few moments, he eased his fingers back to work, soon followed by his tongue.

She expected a quick release like usual with Jareth, but he drew this one out, stopping at the most tantalising moment to kiss her on her mound, her thighs or her stomach before he started his ministrations again. When she did tumble over the edge she felt it reverberating up through her stomach and through her legs.

She barely had time to recover before Jareth crawled up her body to place a knee either side of her head. Sarah took him into her mouth willingly as he held his cock to her lips, enjoying the velvety softness over the hard steel of his erection against her tongue. He groaned and his eyes rolled while he bit into his bottom lip. Slowly he started rocking his hips plunging deeper and deeper into her mouth. Just when she thought he was about to release, he withdrew from her, panting, sweating and smiling.

"May I?" he asked, stroking her clit. At her frantic nod, he produced the blue liquid that was so familiar to her now and guzzled it.

He rolled her over and got her to sit on her hands and knees. Slowly, he eased himself inside her kissing her from just above her buttocks all the way up her spine. A tantalising shiver wrapped around the base of her spine and exploded outwardly around her body. When he reached the base of her neck, he had completely impaled her.

"Fuck," Jareth cursed. "Sarah, I fucking love you."

Sarah could only groan in response. It had always felt good with Jareth but this position, she could feel him deeper than ever before.

"Fuck," Jareth cried out again. Sarah echoed his response with a fuck of her own.

"Jareth!"

"Yes!" he hissed. "Say my name. I want to hear my name on your lips as you come, Sarah."

"Jareth!"

"Oh, fucking hell, Sarah," he cried as he picked up the pace.

"Good evening, brother and sister," came a cheery voice from the door. Sarah screamed and threw one hand up to cover her breasts, as she burrowed down into the bed to hide the rest of her nakedness. She was briefly aware of Jareth swearing before she realised Sevlydi had returned from the Peninsula. Jareth wrapped himself around her to protect her modesty as much as he could. She felt him soften slightly within her, but still, he did not withdraw.

"I have come home, with Rica," he announced.

"That's it," Jareth shouted. "I have been interrupted for the last time." He clicked his fingers and Sevlydi disappeared from the spot.

"What did you do?" Sarah asked, panting heavily, her arms still trying to keep her from collapsing while hiding the important bits.

"I bogged him," Jareth growled.

"But…"

"He will remove the smell with magic, and all will be well," Jareth grunted, as he kissed her on the shoulder. "May I please continue?"

"By all means," Sarah said with faux politeness when she felt like screaming, "just fuck me, already."

Jareth grunted again and she felt his hands cupping her breasts and lightly running his fingers over her nipples, They instantly hardened, and a gush of liquid heat rushed between her legs. She felt every twitch of Jareth's cock within her as it hardened again, and gradually he started thrusting within her once more.

"I love you, Jareth," Sarah shouted as the pinnacle within her started to reform. She was so close to the brink of her release when Jareth took one of his hands away from her breasts and slid them down over her mound where a finger found her clit and gave it a gentle rub. The pinnacle was crested and Sarah crashed down hard, writhing and clamping down on his cock harder than ever. Her orgasm stretched out as Jareth kept going until he too reached his pinnacle and came, cursing and proclaiming love, deep inside her.

"Jareth, that was…"

"Amazing," Jareth finished for her. "However, I do prefer it when I can see you." He paused to kiss her along her spine. "You do make the most exquisite face when you orgasm."

"Romantic!"

"Of course, I would rather look into the eyes of the woman I love as I make love to her," Jareth said, stroking her hip. "That is a given."

Without taking his cock out he manoeuvred them both into the spooning position to sleep off their exertions. As she was drifting off, she was cognizant of his gentle singing — the song about the mopey king who lost his love, but he changed the lyrics as he sang, to make it a song about a king finding his true love and keeping her. His love also returned that love in equal measure. Sarah snuggled deeper into him, feeling his cock flinch within her at her movement. She went to sleep smiling, his baritone voice her deepest consolation.

* * *

When Sevlydi returned from his reunion with the Bog, he was a changed man. He seemed to float through the castle as light as a feather. Sarah found Rica a sweet and endearing man who was the perfect counterpart of Sevlydi's sceptical nature. They hadn't been back long before they got married. Sarah enjoyed attending a wedding that wasn't her own.

She got to dance with Jareth without it being forced. It was in fact the first dance that they willingly shared together since the ball. It was incredible to feel the hard planes of his body against hers, and know exactly where she stood with him. Long gone were the dances of defiance, of trickery, of deceit. This dance was open and honest and she had never enjoyed a dance more.

"We make new memories to replace those that sit like rotten peaches in the sun," Jareth had whispered, echoing her own earlier words, as he pulled her tighter into his embrace. She turned away, smiling, to scan the crowd, noticing Lilan watching next to a bower within the treeline.

Sevlydi was more reluctant to forgive Lilan than even Jareth. Even with her complete depletion of magic, he still invited her to the wedding. She watched the proceedings with a frail smile on her face from a chair where she stayed the entire night; too feeble to dance.

Both Sarah and Sevlydi remained sober. It was a far cry from her wedding night, She also got to spend some more time with her friends. The Spriggets and her trio of friends were in attendance. She still wasn't used to them kowtowing to her. Jareth had insisted they know their place, which was supposedly beneath her. That had sparked Sarah's determination and she insisted harder still that her friends and companions see her as the friend she always was.

" _If anyone is lower than me, it's you, mister," Sarah had said after spending the day with Helena Sprigget. She had jabbed him in the chest when he had told her that she needed to let her friends curtsey and bow to her instead of telling them not to every five minutes. It had turned from bickering to play fighting to passionate love-making within minutes._

" _I will always bow to you, my love," Jareth had said, with what passed as sincerity, after they lay spent in each other's arms._

" _I do not believe you for a second." Sarah kissed her husband on the tip of his nose. Part of her did believe that he held her in higher respect than even himself. "But so you should. I am by far the most superior of us both."_

_Jareth smirked. "Is my ego rubbing off on you, Sarah?"_

" _It's not the only thing," Sarah remarked as she felt his erection rubbing against her. "But it's not ego when I am Hi'Live, the curse breaker."_

" _I have a little curse that you could break for me," Jareth teased, his eyes glinting. "You just have to rub your hand over it a few times and it's secrets will be spilt."_

" _Can I use my mouth?"_

" _You can indeed!" Jareth exhaled sharply as Sarah wrapped her lips around his cock._

The outcome had been a compromise. Alone and privately, they didn't have to bow to her. In public, they did. Jareth had wanted to add a clause where Hoggle had to bow to her, regardless of the situation. Sarah had playfully swatted him. Sarah and her friends had agreed to the compromise, though Sarah still felt uncomfortable when they genuflected. She had visions, slowly over time, of creating a more democratic Kingdom and doing away with the absolute monarchy. She hadn't voiced these plans to Jareth yet. He'd just argue that the Labyrinth voted them in, so that was all the democracy they required.

"Hey, sis," Toby called from the edge of the dancers.

Toby had enjoyed seeing more of the Underground. He filled out a bit more now that he was eating decently and receiving enough sleep. Living Underground had been healthy for him, giving him purpose and freedom. Sarah hoped that he would find genuine happiness as she had. He seemed to be enjoying his training under Nathaniel as he took on the Ambassador role with Alicia.

She had watched him giving Alicia looks all night. Sarah had smiled at the easiness of his potential romance compared to hers. There would be no entanglements with a fae disguising themselves as a human, for Toby.

Though, without Terry, who knows if things would have worked out for the best in the end. Without the ruse, Sarah may never have learnt the lengths Jareth would have gone to save her. At the end of the day, she knew that he loved her and that she loved him. She wasn't ready to give him her all with a bond-mark but she was open to the future possibility.

All of this had come to fruition from a Stolen Pearl wept from the eye of a magical creature. The greatest magic had been that which Jareth had bestowed upon her: his enduring love. But beyond a doubt, the most vital thing she had learnt was to trust again. And though it seemed implausible given their history, she had learnt to trust her once-villain, now lover. In some ways that was more powerful than love.

Sarah was interrupted from her reverie, by Jareth at her elbow. He had gone to fetch her some wine as they took a break from the wedding festivities. He handed her a flute, which she downed almost instantly. It would be the only drink she would consume. She wanted to remain stone-cold sober to enjoy this night with her husband. She kissed him on the cheek and he squeezed her hand.

"I love you," she said, without reservation.

"And I, you," he said, beaming down at her. "More than all the peaches in my vineyard."

"That much?" Sarah widened her eyes dramatically.

"More than the crystal moon," he continued. "I love you more than the stars you keep demanding I move."

"A real measure would be if you loved me more than the bulge in your pants," Sarah scoffed, lightly.

"Ah, but would you still love me if I was bulgeless?" Jareth winked at her.

"Hmmm, good question," Sarah laughed. "I am not sure you want me to answer that."

Jareth clamped her to his side and dug his fingers in to tickle her. "Minx."

Sarah tried to wriggle free, laughing and writhing. "Peace, Jareth. I love you, bulge or no bulge."

Jareth released her from his tickles but still kept his arm around her waist.

"You can pick the next song," he said, showing her the crystal, deftly dancing across his fingers.

"Can I?" Sarah grinned, slyly.

Jareth narrowed his eyes at her. "You can, but do not choose…"

Sarah grinned wider as she snatched the crystal from his hand and twirled it around her own. "Come on, Eileen."

Sarah laughed at his sour look as she tugged her husband, her lover, her friend, her love back to the dancing. The twang of the Dexy's Midnight Runner's track filled the forest air, causing more than one bemused look at the sudden onslaught of the lively music.

"My thoughts, I confess, verge on dirty," Sarah sang as she dragged a sullen-looking Jareth along with her. "Ah, come on, Eileen…"

* * *

_All these mixed emotions_

_We keep locked away like stolen pearls_

_Stolen pearl devotions we_

_Keep locked away from all the world_

_©Savage Garden, 1997_

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: So that was that. The final chapter (with the epilogue to come). I hope it answered any questions. If not, they will hopefully all be answered in the epilogue. I will save all my big thank yous for the next instalment because I am feeling too emotional about doing it right now LOL.
> 
> Credit: Savage Garden, Tears of Pearls.
> 
> Dexy's Midnight Runners - Come one, Eileen (awful yet catchy song). I had to end with another reference. HAD to. 
> 
> I had help with the food in this chapter. I got inspiration from a winery menu! 
> 
> And you finally got your massive lemon scene LOL. And bonus ones to boot. ;) And more cockblocking LOL. 
> 
> Thank you if you got this far. You are the most valuable player and deserve all the sweetcorn fritters I am about to make for dinner. Plus raspberry and caramel chocolate slices for dessert. Congratulations and thank you from the bottom on my heart. 


	28. Epilogue

EPILOGUE

He picked up the squally baby and held her close to his chest. Instantly, the babe stopped her screaming and nestled into his soft silk shirt, her pudgy fists curling into the flowy material.

"That's right, daddy's here," he murmured, stroking his naked hand over the mop of brown hair on the infant's head. He lifted her up and inhaled deeply of the newborn scent; a mixture of magic, milk, and something uniquely her. He smiled as she blinked dazedly at him with those deep blue eyes that held galaxies within. His insides were swept with the feeling that had once been denied to him for centuries and now a part of his daily life: love.

Love, he was told, would fade. That had not been Jareth's experience. If anything, his love and his capacity to love grew exponentially every day. He had so much to love. He had a wife who after many trials and tribulations loved him back. And now he had a daughter.

After many years of working together; of loving together, Sarah had announced that she was ready to have his children if he still wanted them. Of course, he did, but only if she was adamant. Sarah was no broodmare and he would not have her pregnant just to appease him. She had announced her desire in such a way that would stay with him for all of time.

_She had surprised him by wearing the catsuit. He was also strapped to a chair, just watching her in the skintight suit as she sashayed around the bedroom. He was incredibly hard, as she shimmied closer to him. He couldn't touch her, though he was dying to. His arms strained against the silk that bound him._

" _Uh uh," she had reprimanded him, gently swatting at his thigh with his own riding crop. "This cat is not for patting."_

_She straddled him, the smooth leather stroking his bare skin most tantalisingly. She purred as she rubbed her cheek over the smooth expanse of his chest. Jareth responded with a low rumble of his own. His cock responded by pulsing and throbbing against his stomach._

_Jareth had conjured the vial he had consumed religiously to prevent Sarah from falling pregnant. He proffered it to Sarah to tip into his mouth, as he couldn't do it himself with the bindings around him. Her hand came up to grasp his but didn't take the vial. He looked up at her seeing the picture of raw and unadulterated love and lust right in his lap. Confusion marred his brow as she caressed his hand in hers without touching the vial._

" _Sarah." Jareth shook the vial slightly to make his point. He watched her kohl-rimmed eyes dart to the vial and study it, before looking back at him. He may have imagined it, but he was sure she shook her head._

_Without warning, she wrangled the vial out of his hand and dashed it into the nearest wall where it shattered, blue liquid hissing against the cold stone. He turned back to Sarah who bit her lip to hide her smile. Jareth had beamed back, barely containing the tears that had sprung into his eyes._

" _Sarah?" he had asked. "Are you positive?"_

" _I am ready, Jareth," she had wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned down to kiss him. "Do you accept my gift, Jareth?"_

_He kissed her passionately, deepening the kiss as soon as she had become pliant enough. He disengaged to ensure she truly wanted what she freely offered. "I accept you giving me the gift of fatherhood as long as you truly want the gift of motherhood, for yourself and not just for me."_

" _I want to be the mother of your children, Jareth," she had said. "I am ready."_

" _Then I accept, Sarah-mine."_

Having broken the curse, babies were plentiful and not the rare miracle they used to be. It didn't take long before Sarah was with child. And how she had grown in love with every step she took during pregnancy! She was a natural mother to their child. Jareth was overwhelmed.

Not to say that it had been the "happily ever after" of her mortal fairy tales. They still had their struggles. Jareth was guilty of not communicating his decisions when, after centuries of ruling alone, he was quite used to not having to consult others first. And Sarah occasionally let her determination bleed into sheer obstinance.

However, together they had a strong Kingdom that was a sanctuary to many and a bastion of peace and prosperity.

It was not just the Council of Mythical Creatures that found sanctuary here, but the likes of Forsythia Pinnsburr also found a place. After she had been healed in the Goblin Kingdom, her and Sarah had actually struck up a tentative friendship. After many years, she eventually became one of Sarah's confidants. It was rumoured that she had also started a blossoming romance with Nathaniel, the Ambassador that had worked with Tobias and Alicia.

Wee Toby and Alicia had had a brief teenaged affair for some time, but it had run its course. Jareth was assured it did not affect their working relationship. Toby was still employed as his ambassador. Unmarried, but he was quite the romantic with the women. He spent a lot of his time with his aunt and uncle. Once they had been released from Navas, they needed quite a bit of rehabilitation into life Underground. Especially Toby's uncle who was blind and had to have a leg amputated.

The changeling aunt and uncle had been caught and executed by the High King, Aviis, for their crimes against the brother of a Queen.

They weren't the only ones to have lost their lives. Hoggle and Sir Didymus had died valiantly in a minor scuffle with the Kingdom of Trew. Jareth had ensured their funeral was suitable for their station as friends of the Queen. Sarah had been nearly inconsolable for months behind closed doors. She remained stoic in public. He so admired and envied her for her raw emotions over the loss of her friends. While she grieved, Jareth supported her in any capacity she would have him. He wasn't there for her when she lost her parents or her baby, but he could be there for her now. He held true to those promises he made all those years ago in a peach-dream.

Ludo was the only remaining original friend that she had made in her first trip Underground. Most of the goblins she had befriended when she first became Queen had also shuffled off the mortal coil, only to be replaced by other equally loyal goblins. Cookie and Cricket, the younger of the pack still lived, retired from duty and living in the Goblin City proper.

The Spriggets had all grown up and got lives of their own. Liam and Helena retired to the castle to become Sarah's companions. Abby, the youngest Sprigget flourished with her new family. She knew she had been a Stolen Pearl, and the last one at that, but she was content with her new life. As Liam and Robby aged, she took on more and more of the farmwork, becoming the manager, and eventually the owner at Cloverfield. Jareth believed it was very hard for Sarah to watch them age as the decades rolled on. Though longer than a life lived Above, it was not limitless. Humans in the Underground had natural lifespans too unless you were fae-touched like Sarah and Toby. Sarah, with magic of her own, was almost no different than a fae. Aside from her heart and capacity to love, of course.

Sarah's friend Hilary had visited the Underground many times throughout her life. Sarah even offered to let her stay with them. Hilary had refused. And she eventually passed from old age. Sarah had cried for days as her last link the Above had now dissolved. Before her death, Hilary had informed Sarah that Mark had broken it off with Jo, who went off to have three children with a decent man. Mark had turned viciously to alcohol and drugs to cope with his anger, but once he got himself clean he started working with children from underprivileged families. Hilary never knew if he ever had a family of his own.

Sarah had inquired about her mother once while Hilary still lived. She informed Sarah that Linda's death was splashed all over the tabloids for weeks. It was cancer and there had been no mention of Linda's daughter in any of the press.

Sarah never spoke about Mark or Linda again.

Lost in memories, he didn't realise their baby was now fussing and squirming.

"Let's go find your mama," he said, kissing her gently on the brow. "Your beautiful mama, who you are going to love, my darling girl."

He entered their bedroom and found Sarah propped up on cushions in bed with tired glazed eyes, but a smile. Her dark hair fanned out over the pillows framing her face, tempting Jareth to run his fingers through it.

"Here she is," he murmured as he passed the baby over to Sarah. "This is the most beautiful creature in the world."

"Who are you talking to? Me or the baby?"

"Both," Jareth said, kissing his wife on the forehead. He watched as Sarah popped out her breast and manoeuvered her nipple into the gaping mouth of their infant. When she was suckling away, Sarah returned her gaze to him. He was awestruck by the most beautiful sight he had ever encountered: his wife nurturing his child.

"I love you," she said.

"Who? Me or our baby?"

"Both," she replied with a smile.

"I love you both too."

"We need a name, Jareth."

"What about Teri?" Jareth grinned as Sarah narrowed her eyes.

"How about no?" Sarah retorted looking down at her precious bundle.

So many years later, they could joke about Terry and what a fool Jareth had been to try and trick her into loving him. Jareth still felt a pang in his stomach that he had been told was guilt. He was never going to be an upright moral person, but he would always be decent to Sarah. He may treat the world with contempt, but never his Sarah or his child. Sarah alone saw his vulnerable side. And he alone saw hers.

After she had executed the Pinnsburrs she had got quite a reputation for herself as being as equally cruel as the Goblin King. Only Jareth knew she hadn't killed them at all. They were fed and watered, but imprisoned in an oubliette. They were both stuck in a nightmare; an endless loop of feeling themselves burning alive. Glib, the goblin spy, had received the same treatment but after a while, he had been released to work in a mine on the Southern border of the Goblin Kingdom. Jareth believed the Pinnsburr's deaths would have been kinder and more humane than the torture Sarah had sentenced them to. But he wasn't going to contradict his Queen. They had stolen so much from her.

Sarah was seen as quite a formidable force after she had broken the curse, and to a lesser extent, for taming the Goblin King. Most noteworthy was that the fall of Navas had been laid at her feet. The entire kingdom of Navas had been dissolved for their power-hungry ways at the expense of their citizens and the surrounding kingdoms. Navas had become a protectorate of the High King, and no-one had seen what had become of Omre and Nudalun. They and their partners, as well as Nudalun's children, had all vanished.

Jareth had eventually thawed with his mother. She lived in the Goblin Kingdom but they rarely crossed paths. Sarah had asked if Lilan would like to visit her grandchild, but she wasn't quite ready. She still hadn't recovered from being married to Effistod, nor forgiven herself for abandoning her two sons. Having no magic, meant that she was often exhausted and sick. However, the veil held so Lilan was still happy with her sacrifice. Jareth felt no remorse in having drained his mother of her magic to save his Kingdom.

Sevlydi, however, was even less forgiving. Once he had married Rica, they had moved to a sea-bordering village in the Western Goblin Kingdom. Jareth and Sarah paid visits to them, but they rarely ventured to the Castle anymore. Jareth admitted he spent quite a while missing his brother despite their sometimes unstable relationship.

Sarah was busily relatching the Goblin Princess onto her other breast when he was drawn back into the present.

"The next Goblin Queen is a wee hungry mite," Jareth said fondly. The Labyrinth always selects the next monarch and already, though only just born, the blessing had been bestowed upon the infant.

"She takes after her father,' Sarah whispered.

"How so?"

"You are always hungry for one thing or another," Sarah quipped. "Not necessarily food."

Jareth smirked. "You have given me a drive for life, Sarah. You helped me to see the beauty in the world."

"And you have given me magic."

"Most of your magic is pure _you_."

Sarah had flourished with her magic after all these years. Jareth was not ashamed to admit there were things she could now teach him. He hadn't lied when he acknowledged Sarah as his equal, or even as his superior. She had saved his world at the detriment of all of hers.

She had also healed his leg. Her magic was the nurturing kind and as soon as she was confident, she had asked to heal his wounds. He still remembered the way her warm hands had laid atop of his skin and stitched it back together by pouring her essence into his butchered limb. A faint mark could still be seen but it no longer caused him any pain. Just when he thought he couldn't love her more, she would surprise him.

And no more so when she agreed to receive a bond-mark. They both now had small bond-marks in the shape of a mini Labyrinth on the back of their necks proving that they were lovers for eternity. Jareth never wavered in his dedication to her, nor was he ever tempted to do so. For the hundreds of lovers, he had consumed, could not be matched by the one love he had loved since the first time he had seen her chasing the child around the garden at Cloverfield Cottage. And even before that, she had occupied a slither of his heart; especially after seeing her in that skin-tight black catsuit.

He could never really truly repay her for everything she had done for their Kingdom. He could only love her.

Queen Sarah Hi'Live De Škriatok; Lady of the Labyrinth curse-breaker; Queen of the Goblins; Ender of the Stolen Pearl Trade; mother of the next Goblin Queen; his lover and keeper of his heart. She was the girl with a kind of pale jewel open and closed within her eyes. The pearl had been within her all this time.

She had revealed the stars to him and he would move them for her.

* * *

_We twist and turn where angels burn_

_Like fallen soldiers, we will learn_

_Once forgotten, twice removed_

_Love will be the death_

_The death of you_

_©Savage Garden, 1997_

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: So there you have it. 200k words later we have finished the Stolen Pearl journey. Now, I just have to decide which plot bunny I choose to set free next. I have many hahaha. I am going to celebrate finishing this by making myself a blueberry smoothie. 
> 
> Thank you: Thank you to (in alphabetical order) AngelGlass, BustedBrain, RhedKrow, telcontarian and Viciously Witty for putting up with my endless wittering on. And for all advice and support that they provided over the last seven months. All of them are amazing sounding boards and talented authors! For also sharing my stor(ies) and being my cheer team. 
> 
> Also, shout out to Lixxle for the time I inundated her with stuff, and without her, I would never have learnt that Forsythia is a real plant and not just a name I made up by squishing other names together haha. I should have actually mentioned that two chapters ago when she mentioned the meaning of her name during the war scene. Forsythia means hope/anticipation, so I found it quite poetic that she took control of her own life and gave herself hope, despite her brainwashing and training to be nothing more than a puppet for Navas. 
> 
> Thank you: to my husband for reading over the smutty scenes for me before I posted them.
> 
> Thank you to LFFL for all your support and encouragement. And for all those that followed and reviewed.
> 
> Thank you to Savage Garden for being my muse.
> 
> ###
> 
> So they had a baby. And I think I had planned for them to have one or two more as well. BUT I don't write sequels (or read them) so you can have that information for free. 
> 
> They live bickeringly ever after. 

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: So brand new story. Yipee. This one will be longer and M rated ;) It will be very different from "Wings" but also inspired by Savage Garden (Tears of Pearls). Pearls were believed to be Tears of the Gods by the ancient Greeks and that is why they are common wedding ornamentation/jewelry. Lots of different myths out there from other cultures too though. In China it was believed you had to fight (kill) a dragon before you could receive a pearl.


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